


Forgiveness

by danversantiago



Series: TLOU Forgiveness Series [1]
Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Action, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Horror, M/M, Mild Gore, Multi, Zombie Apocalypse, this is a bloody mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danversantiago/pseuds/danversantiago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>6 years have passed, and Melanie Alexandra Miller is still finding it hard to forgive her father, Joel; up until Ellie pops into her life unexpectedly.</p><p>Join her as she learns how to cope with forgiveness, love, nostalgia, and hate in a world that she once, and still does, called home.</p><p>Rated PG-13 for language.. and tid bits of romance later on.. ;)</p><p>~</p><p>This is a fanfiction, fiction created by a fan, AKA a form of creative writing that most people in fandoms are aware of. I do not own The Last of Us, it is rightfully the property of Naughty Dog.</p><p>I DO own the majority of the made up storyline though, since I wrote it in the span of 6 months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dad's Birthday

"Ugh! For God's sake, Sarah! Why are you so fucking heavy?!" I yell back at her as my back begins to fail me from her undeniably heavy weight.

"Do  _YOU_  wanna try having a broken leg?" she asks in return, causing me to turn and glare at her.

As my pace increases from jog to sprint while carrying Sarah on my back, I ask myself, "How the hell did we get into this damn mess..?"

 **Thursday, September 26, 2013** :

I watch her sleep on my lap. The side profile of her blonde bob is facing me now. Her gray eyes, now shut, are telling me to do the same; but I can't. I'm exhausted from school, all the stupid drama and homework just makes me sleepier, yet I still can't. One more day of school, then it's finally the weekend.

I carefully push a lock of her hair out of her face, and tuck it behind her ear. God blessed me with an adorable sister; I guess I could consider myself lucky. Just when I'm about to doze off, I hear the front door close. Dad's voice echoes in the hall as he talks to Uncle Tommy, something about a contractor.

"Let's talk about this in the morning, okay?" I hear him say. _Shit_. He's gonna see that I'm awake. I lay my head back on the couch and shut my eyes immediately, a little too tightly. He turns on the light, waking Sarah up.

Yawning, she lifts herself up and off of my lap, putting pretty much all of her weight on the edge of my right thigh. I immediately open my eyes and yelp in pain. "Hey", she says to Dad after yawning. "I was just about to wake you up", says a giggling Sarah, turning to me.

Tiredly, I give her a look, but only for half a second. Her innocence wins me over every time.

"Scoot", Dad says to both of us. I slide to the end of the couch, mainly because there is an armrest there. "Fun day at work, huh?" she asks Dad.

Sighing, Dad asks without looking at us, "What are you two still doing up? It's late." This alerts Sarah, causing her eyes to become wide with anxiety. "Oh, crud. What time is it?" she asks worriedly, looking up at the clock above us.

 **11:50 P.M.**  Not _that_ late. Well, yeah it's late, but not as late as I thought it is. In frustration, Dad replies, "It's way past your bedtime".

" _But_ , it's still today." I reply almost instantly. He gives me a hard look, and immediately wish I hadn't said anything.

Leaning back on to the couch with a hand to his forehead, he says to us tiredly, "Girls, please not right now. I do _not_ have the energy for this." I look away in embarrassment, while Sarah hops of the couch and crawls to the compartment to my left. "Here," she says to Dad as she hands him a white square box, sitting back down on the couch with us. Turning to both of us, he asks "What's this?"

I reply, "Your birthday." Dad's birthday is just a four day gap from mine, so yes, I did feel a slight twinge of jealousy for Dad, since Sarah didn't even bother to get  _me_  a present like this, but I'm not that selfish. "You kept complaining about your broken watch. So we figured, you know?" says Sarah finishing off my sentence. "You like it?" I add quickly.

Dad's reaction is worrying, he looks upset. "Listen, girls, it's nice but, I-I think it's stuck, it's not-" Panicking, Sarah yelps and grabs Dad's hand wearing the watch, then tosses it back. "Oh, ha ha."

Smiling, Dad asks us, "Where'd you two get the money for this?" Rolling my eyes, I answer, "Drugs. We sell hardcore drugs."

Sarah giggles just before laying her head on my lap again. "Good," Dad replies as he turns on the TV, "you can start helping out with the mortgage then." We turn to him in mock disbelief and then yell at him, "Yeah, you wish!" We watch soccer for the rest of the night.

I don't know what time it is when Dad sends us upstairs. I just remember a feeling of floating in the air, with Dad's strong arms gripping my body as I slept.

-

_A/N: Okay then, folks! That's it for today! If you like it, please let me know, like/favorite, do as you wish! I'll see you all later, have a good day! :D_


	2. Of Snacks and Screaming Neighbors

"Shit! Why the hell are these things still chasing us?!" I yell to Dad. My legs are starting to burn and I can't breathe. I want to cry, I want to break down. I can't take it anymore; this pain is just too much for me to bear.

"Just keep running! Whatever you do, don't turn back and don't stop!" he yells in reply.

I suddenly remember Finding Nemo, Dory's singing pops into my head. "Just keep running, just keep running"..

**Friday, September 27, 2013:**

**1:46 AM**  I slowly lift my eyelids open to find myself on my bed, in my room. Why the hell am I awake at this time of night? I have school tomorrow! Shit! I roll out of bed, and slip into my trousers, pushing my blankets off and on to the foot of my bed. I sit on my bedside and suddenly realize this: I'm hungry. Like, REALLY hungry. What for? I don't even know yet.

I sprint down the stairs for a "midnight-snack" even though it's more than an hour past midnight. I run past Sarah's and Dad's bedrooms as well, ignoring the TV in Dad's room, despite the fact that it's almost at max volume.

I slowly watch over to the fridge in our kitchen, where I find another copy of the last morning's  **Texas Herald**. I passed by the other copy in the bathroom when I sprinted down the stairs.

I walk over to it and carefully pick up the paper with both my hands; and I then read the headline:  **ADMITTANCE SPIKES AT AREA HOSPITALS! 300% INCREASE DUE TO MYSTERIOUS INFECTION**  I take a deep breath and mutter to myself "Let's just hope we don't end up the same as the rest of them."

I put the paper down and walk back over to the fridge. I open the freezer compartment and search for what I was hungry for: ice cream. I push my warm hands into the freezer, pushing aside its cold contents to look for it, and I finally find I'm looking for. BEN AND JERRY'S PEACH COBBLER.

I start grinning my head off the moment my fingers come in contact with the icy cold carton. I pull out the carton and shut the freezer door carefully, not to disturb Sarah's peaceful sleep. She reminds me of puppy, a cute, small, innocent puppy, but a caring and selfless puppy.

I slide the carton across the counter and search for a spoon to eat the ice cream from the carton. Not exactly sure how I started developing this habit, and Dad's always scolding me for it; but I still do it anyways.

As soon as I find one, I start to eat. One, two, three spoons are in my mouth. The delicious cinnamon shortbread is definitely something nice to wake up to, so is the peach swirl and the peach chunks in the ice cream. "I might as well just read the paper", I say to myself. " **FDA EXAMINES LIST OF CONTAMINATED CROPS** ", NOPE. Ain't reading' that, way too boring for me.

My eyes widen in alarm as my eyes flicker down to the lower headline, " **POLICE: CRAZED WOMAN KILLS HUSBAND, 3 OTHERS** ". Oh, God. What the hell? I continue reading and the story is just getting more gruesome as I continue.

I pop another spoonful into my mouth. That's when I hear Andy Cooper's screams. I almost choke on the ice cream sliding down my throat, I realize I'm gripping the spoon so hard that my knuckles are turning white, in the dark.

"What the hell's going on..?", I ask myself as I toss my spoon across the counter. I throw the ice cream into the freezer, and search for a weapon. What should I use, though?

I'm definitely not bringing a kitchen knife; I'm not exactly fond of violence, or stabbing for that matter. But, then again, desperate times call for desperate measures.

My eyes flicker around the room, constantly asking myself, "What should I use? Should I even be doing this?"

Finally, my eyes rest upon my baseball bat. I slowly walk over to it and pick it up. I shove my feet into my sneakers, and stare at the door for a few seconds.

Breathe. In, out. In, out. "It's fine. Nothing to worry about." Am I being honest with myself? "Just open the door, close it, and check on Andy. You'll be fine." Nope. It's for my own comfort, and it's not helping me in any way possible.

I can already start to feel a lump rising in my throat. My heart's racing; I'm not even outside yet. My grip on the bat is beginning to falter because of the amount of sweat on my palms. I quickly wipe them on my trousers.

I finally force myself to turn the door handle at put one foot outside. "Good. Now the other. Repeat until you get to Andy's." And so I do. My legs are shaking; the only light guiding me is the moonlight, a glowing white light against my skin.

I finally reach the Coopers', a block away from our house. I notice their sliding door is half-open, and that there is blood smeared on the side. Now, I can really feel my heart rising up to my throat as I slowly walk over to it. I allow my fingers to slide over it, and immediately wish I hadn't. The blood is glistening in the bright light of the moon and it's still wet.

It's pitch black inside, not even the moonlight is enough for me to see the insides of the Coopers' house.

"H-hello?" I whisper. No response. " _BREATHE_ , you'll suffocate otherwise." My brain is speaking to me. I clear my throat and say slightly louder, "Hello? An-anyone there? Andy..?" Still nothing, up until I hear a moan coming from inside the house.

I have to go in and find out what's going on. Once I force my foot into the house, I tell myself quietly, "Ah, shit. Here we go."

I slip into the house as quietly as I can, but that doesn't stop the choked scream that comes out of my mouth when I see what's left of Andy from across the room. I immediately cover my mouth with my left hand to stop myself from screaming any more than I have to.

Even worse, he's not the only one. I see his older brother Kyle has ended up the same way, except Andy's clothes aren't tattered like Kyle's. Other than that, they're bodies are both covered with blood, both skin and shirt.

They're both slouching as they stand. I hear wheezing sounds coming from them both, and I notice them twitching like dogs with arthritis. How they're still alive, only God knows.

I want to puke now, but they'll hear me, or even worse, smell me.

Just when I'm about to back out of the house, my baseball bat clunks against the sliding door's glass. Immediately, they both turn towards me and lunge at me at full speed. They're already half a meter in front of me.

Panicked, I freeze in place, gripping the bat as hard as I can, praying to God to help me out in the position I'm in.

Finally, I raise the bat above my head and yell, "SHIT!"


	3. The World We Once Knew

I finally open my eyes as Kyle comes into view, merely millimeters away from me.

I put all my strength into my arms, swinging my bat at the Kyle, back-forth; left-right; up-down. I'm hitting him wherever I can, whenever I can.

The sound of wood impacting on his flesh continues.

Again, and again, and again.

Kyle's blood is going everywhere, splashing over my face, shirt, arms, and legs. I finally hear a crack and an unpleasant squelching sound come from the impact of the bat on Kyle's head as he staggers over and falls.

Andy's randomly smacking my right side, his hits may be random, but he still hits hard, despite not having any control over his body. His nails are leaving minor cuts on my arms and face, peeling the skin off. I have to keep shoving him to get him to stop.

I don't want to kill him. I didn't know Kyle all that well, but I do know Andy, or I did at least. Class clown, biggest flirt in class, one of the laziest people I know, and my best friend. I can still see his stupid grinning face as I hit him; but then I remember: It's not him anymore. He's dead. I finally decide to start hitting him.

Each blow is telling me to stop, but if I do, he'll kill me before I can. It's either him, or me. I choose me.

Please die. Please die. Please die. I don't want to hit you anymore. I'm choking on my sobs, and I sound like a blubbering baby.

Finally, he does. He twitches for a few more seconds and doesn't stir anymore.

My bat is coated now with the Coopers' blood. I'm just glad it's not mine. I killed them both in cold blood and didn't even hesitate.

I release my bat and slump on the floor, feeling the hard impact on my behind, facing their lifeless bodies.

Their limp bodies are in odd angles in pools of dark crimson. I swallow hard and slowly try to take in this grim scenario.

I crawl over to Andy's body, and kneel over him. His hazel eyes are still open, but unblinking. His long ashen blond hair is still falling over his face.

I carefully push it aside. I lean into his ear and whisper, "Bye, Andy. Sorry it had to be you." I kiss his cheek as a goodbye after shutting his eyes. Hopefully, he's at peace.

I hop over Kyle's body to prevent myself from tripping. After picking up my baseball bat, I climb out of the house and feel the humidity of summer hit my face.

I check my trouser pockets for anything that can show me what time it is, nothing.

I wipe the back of my neck and realize that it’s slick with sweat. I’m covered in grime from face down to my arms. "What a great start to the day", I mutter to myself.

Judging by how the moon and stars are still in the sky, I'm guessing it's still pretty late. Hopefully, if I run home and get there on time, things will be back to normal again.

**01:53 AM**

I ran all the way home.

When I reach home, the first thing I do is run to the bathroom to wash my face and arms to rid myself of the grime left from my previous contact with the Coopers. I'm splashing water everywhere, but I don't care, I don't care.

Their blood is turning the water into an unpleasant combination of deep crimson with brown, now a dark brown-pink waterfall flowing down the drain. I take a hand towel, dampen it and start to wipe the chunks of flesh off that were left over from my previous encounter. "I can't let Sarah find out about this…" I tell myself.

I slowly walk into my room, breathing heavily. I peel off my shirt and change into a clean one before putting on my hoodie; my surroundings suddenly feel cold, like I've suddenly gotten the fever. Something in my gut is telling me that this is real, and that things won't get better from here. I hope I'm wrong. I really do. I toss the bat at the far end of my room, causing the wood to clunk against the cement floor of my room.

I lie my head down on my pillow and try to sleep. This is worse than before. All I can see now is Andy's bloody face, a twisted grin plastered on along with it, this picture is repeatedly popping up each time I close my eyes. I finally decide to just cry myself to sleep, and I do, except the sleep part.

By the time I'm done, my face is wet, snotty; red. I feel like one of those girls who just broke up with their boyfriends, crying their hearts out. Andy was one of my closest friends, knowing him since we were kids makes it even worse. I’ve never felt anything in particular towards him, but he was almost like a brother to me for the most part of my life. I might as well try to get some shut-eye. Hopefully, his bloody and distorted face doesn't show up again.

**2:13 AM**

My eyes immediately shoot open. My heart is racing, I'm coated with sweat and so is my bed. It's probably because of the hoodie I'm wearing, maybe I wet the bed. I don't know. I hope it's not Theory Number 2.

I can hear the house phone in Sarah's room start ringing. I hop off my bed to check on her, to find her picking up the phone and answering.

"Sarah, what're you-?" I ask. Ignoring me, she says into the phone, "Hello? Uncle Tommy, what is it?" I can hear the line get cut off. "Uncle Tommy? Hello?" ending the call. She turns to the door to face me, "What was that all about?"

I swallow hard and answer, "I don't know, but I've got a bad feeling about it…"

She walks over to me, but something in the corner of her eye catches her attention. "Ah, dang it! I forgot to give this to him!" She’s holding the birthday card we made for Dad the day before.

"Aww. Pass it over; I'll keep it with me for now and we'll give it to him later."

Nodding tiredly, she hands it to me. "We could just come back for it, you know…" she says to me.

I bite my lip, and an awkward silence is in the air for a minute or two. Finally, I reply, "You know, I have a feeling that we won't be coming back."

A frown is glued to her face when she asks, "What's that supposed to mean, Melanie?"

I take the card and walk out of her room to go to mine, not realizing that she followed me out. I scurry over to my backpack and tip it upside down, emptying its contents, searching for anything I can use. Nothing other than my phone.

I frantically start searching around my room for last year's birthday present that Dad got for me. I'm emptying the drawers, throwing clothes out wherever I can. I feel like a robber now, looking for valuables in a rich person's home, but this is my room, my property. I can do as I please to my own room. "Mel, what the heck are you doing?"

My hand finally closes in on it. I sigh with relief as I take it out. My precious 9mm handgun. A gasp of horror escapes Sarah's lips. "Why would you want to take that with you?" asks a frightened and confused Sarah.

Ignoring her, I start looking around for the 2 boxes of rounds that Uncle Tommy bought for me to go with the gun. Sarah, exasperated at my insistence of ignorance starts to whisper in a frustrated tone, "Mel, come on! Please, just answer me! Why would you want to take your gun out now?! We all agreed that it would only be used at the shooting range, not in a normal scenario like this!"

I finally turn to her after loading the gun. "Why are you doing this?" she asks in her normal timid voice.

"You haven't seen what I've seen," I say quietly to her. I don't want to tell her. I don't even know how she'll react, so what's the point in that?

I pick up my pocket knife from my bedside table and stuff it in my pocket along with my phone. I take my beanie off from my jacket rack and pull it over my head. All the items I find in my room each have a use of some sort, which is a bright side that I am willing to sugarcoat. I toss my two water bottles into my backpack, along with the cloth I used to clean my bat. I take the only photo album I have in my room and throw that in as well.

I silently walk out of the room after double-knotting my sneakers, Sarah following after me.

Leaning against the wall beside the bathroom door and I ask her, "Need anything? If you do, make it quick." Ignoring me, she walks in to the other copy of the  **Texas Herald.** She silently starts reading, and finally puts it down.

I realize that she's still in her pajamas. "Don't you want to change out of those?" I ask.

She turns to me, "Why would I? Dad should be at home, right?" I sigh in exasperation and walk with her down the hall to Dad's room. "Dad?" she calls out.

A glowing light is emitted from underneath the door. Mumbled voices can be heard from behind. I push it open for Sarah, and let her walk in first, but I don't. My right hand is dangling on my side as my left is pushing the door open.

"You in here?" she asks as she walks in. A news report is playing on Dad's TV, with Amy Jamison television ready voice playing.

"The patients with this newly developed infection have shown increased signs of aggression and-" her voice is cut off by a man in the background, asking her to leave the area. Ignoring him, she continues, "There seems to me some kind of commotion is going on from behind me-".

"That's nearby…" I say to Sarah, both our eyes glued to the TV screen from across the room. The same man cuts in again, "Lady, you need to get out of here now! There's a gas leak!" Just when she's about to continue, a deafening explosion stops the broadcast, causing the screen to turn static.

Another explosion happens, but this one isn't coming from the TV. We both turn to the window, and see the cloud of smoke rising up. "Oh my God. Wasn't that..?!" I say.

Sarah's eyes look panicked, like a deer that's about to be hunted. She makes for the door and I let my hand fall to my side, letting the door close on its own. "DAD?!" she yells, loud enough to be heard from the basement. "What the heck is goin' on?" she asks me.

I can hear the blaring of police sirens outside, and the dogs are all going crazy. They're barking with all their might, but at what? When we get downstairs, we see that some of the lights have been switched on, not leaving us in total darkness. "He might be in his study." I tell her, trying to comfort her. I know it won't help, but it's worth a shot.

We walk across the living room to make for his study, but as we pass by the kitchen, Sarah walks over to the kitchen counter, causing me to stop walking. She picks up what caught her attention earlier, "There's his phone." I say.

I can hear a strained tone in her voice as she's reading what's on the phone. "14 calls. Where the _hell_  are you? Call me. On my way…what?" she says before putting the phone down. I end up with a look almost as confused as hers, but not quite since I'm already quite aware of what's going on.

I wait for her for several seconds and continue to tip toe to the Dad's study, allowing Sarah to follow behind me. When we get to the doors, we push one apart each; as soon as we take one step in, a grime covered Dad runs in through the sliding door. He looks scared, but of what? He immediately slides the sliding door shut. "There you are!" Sarah exclaims to Dad.

"Mel. Sarah" he says turning to us. He turns to his study and starts frantically loading his revolver after finding it from one of his drawers. "Are you okay?" he asks in a panicked voice.

"Yeah." I reply as calmly as I can. I think my voice is shaking. "Has anyone come in here?" he asks in the same panicked voice as before.

"No. Who would come in here?" asks a confused Sarah.

"Don't go near the doors. Just… just hang back there" Dad says to her in reply.

"Dad, you're kind of freaking us out. What's going on?" Sarah asks in return.

"It's the Coopers." CRAP. The mention of their family name is bringing me flashbacks of what happened the previous hour.

"S-something ain't right with 'em. I-I think they're sick." Dad continues. Sick, with the "turns-people-crazy" infection, I'm guessing.

An oblivious Sarah asks again, "What kind of sick?"

She didn't even really have to ask. One slam in the glass door answers the question. Sarah screams; a startled scream. "Jesus!" Dad yells.

I'm frozen in place, I can't think. I can't breathe. Kyle and Andy's dad, Jimmy Cooper, had that same look about him. He's making the same noises as Andy and Kyle, strangled roars in the back of their throats. The amount of blood covering him is no surprise, but how aggressive he is, is frightening, even more than the other two. "Honey, c'mere. C'mere. Baby, get back." Dad tells Sarah as they join me from where I'm standing. Again, again, and again. Jimmy's just slamming the glass repeatedly against his shoulder, smudging the sliding door's glass with his own blood.

"Jimmy… Jimmy, just stay back!" says Dad in a loud and threatening voice as Jimmy finally breaks through the glass, landing on the ground then getting up and lunging towards us. Jimmy's strangled roars are loud enough to wake the whole damn neighborhood. Dad's voice wakes me up inside.

"Sarah, it's okay. It's okay." I whisper her to her as calmly as I reach for her hand to clutch in mine.

"Jimmy, I'm warning you! Don't-!" Just as Jimmy reaches for Dad's face, he shoots Jimmy's head with his revolver, causing a loud bang to echo through the house. Sarah's free hand clutches the back of Dad's shirt as he shoots him, while I stay as stiff as a statue, my unblinking eyes remaining on Jimmy Cooper bludgeoned face.

"Oh my God. Y-you shot him. I-I saw him this mornin’," says a traumatized Sarah.

Dad grabs my right shoulder and Sarah's left, saying to us, "Sarah. Mel. Both of you listen to me. There is something bad going on, and we have to got to get outta here. Do you understand me?" I look up at him and nod slowly, Sarah does the same. "Y-yeah." we respond as calmly as we possibly can. I can hear Sarah holding back her tears; how much more selfless and calm can anyone get?

"Alright, c'mon, you two," he says to us after taking hold of Sarah's arm as we make our way for the front door of our house.

After throwing the front door open, we find Uncle Tommy and his truck waiting for us outside. "Where the hell you been? You have any idea what's goin' on out there?" he asks Dad.

"I got some notion" he nods in reply as he opens the door for us to climb in the backseat. "Holy sh-. You got blood all over you!" he exclaims in a surprised tone. "It ain't mine; let's just get out of here." Dad says to him as I close the door. Uncle Tommy _swore_. Again. But this isn’t the first time.

When they both climb in, Uncle Tommy turns to us and asks, "Hey, Melanie. Sarah. How you two holdin' up now?"

"I'm fine." I say quietly as I look out the window.

"Yeah, can we hear what's on the radio?" Sarah asks.

"Sure thing," Uncle Tommy replies. Always playing the nice one in our family, that's what I like so much about him. His positive attitude always puts a smile on my face, but not today.

All we can hear is static when he turns the radio on. "No cellphone" I have one, "No radio. Yeah, we're doin' great. Minute ago the newsman wouldn't shut up."

I zone out as I stare out the window. As the rest of them continue talking, all I can think about is how quickly our world is falling apart. We'd be willing to lose our humanity to save ourselves. Destruction is spreading across like a wildfire, death following shortly after.

"Did they say how many are dead?" Sarah asks when I decide to pay attention to what they're saying.

"Dunno. Could be hundreds, people say they found this one family mangled inside their house-"

"Tommy." Dad says to him, cutting him short. He doesn't want us hearing about gory situations like that; but I know better.

"Right, sorry."

We drive past Louis' burning farm as we continue down the road. "Hey," I say pointing out to a family at a bus stop a few blocks from Jeremy's house. Uncle Tommy slows the car down, "What're you doin', man? Keep driving!" Dad tells Uncle Tommy.

"They got kids, Joel!"

"So do we!" Dad says in response.

"But we have room!" Sarah says, trying to reason with Dad.

"Hey," says the father of the family, waving at us to stop the car. "Hey, hey wait! Stop!" he yells as we drive right past them.

"Are you fucking kidding me? We have room!" I yell at Dad, with an angry and questioning look on my face.

"You ain't seen what I've seen," Dad says to us. "Someone else'll come along."

I have seen what you've seen, old man. You just don't know about it.

When we reach the highway, we immediately stop dead in our tracks. We see an unlimited number of an unpleasant site: cars. Snaking all the way back to where we are, all of them are honking, flashing their lights at each other. "Shoot. Everyone and their mother had the same damn idea." Uncle Tommy says.

We notice an army helicopter fly right past us. The driver in one of the cars grows impatient and climbs right out of his car to yell at the helicopter pilot, not that he can hear him. "Hey, what the fuck, man?! Let's go!" My heart stops when I see what happens to him. This highway is about a mile away from the nearest hospital; the victims of the infection must have escaped after going insane.

We see two ex-hospital patients come from behind the iron railings, sprinting towards the man, giving off their loud and choked roars. One of them lands on the man and starts to eat him alive, all I can hear from him are his screams of terror, most likely, his last. We see the other climb into his car and eat his passenger, blood splashing everywhere.

"Holy shit!" Uncle Tommy yells.

"One of them's coming this way!" I yell back at him.

"Drive, drive! Tommy! Get us out of here!" Dad responses. The one on the man runs towards us and bumps the hood of the truck, giving us a mindless but menacing roar. Sarah gives out a panicked scream while I grip my seatbelt as Uncle Tommy goes on full reverse, causing a loud screeching to escape from the truck's tires.

"What the fuck just happened?! Did you see that?!" Uncle Tommy yells to Dad. All I can hear now is the both of them yelling at each other, I can't even make out any of what they're saying anymore. When I finally do hear proper English words, it's not coming from them.

It's Sarah, "What are they running from?" I immediately peel my eyes away from the two adults and look out the car's front window to find us in a narrow street, people running towards our direction but not towards us. They attempt to run past us, but Uncle Tommy's now slow driving is keeping them from moving anywhere else.

"Tommy, step on it!" Dad yells.

"I can't fuckin’ drive through 'em, Joel!" Uncle Tommy screams in response, pointing at the people in front of us, obstructing our path.

"Then back up, then!"

"They're behind me too!"

Their exasperation is starting affect us now, and soon enough, I start yelling as well. "Damn it! Just drive!"

"Hold on!" Uncle Tommy says to us as he starts to drive faster now. The people are still in our way, but it's not as bad as just now.

"Run, man! Run!" I hear people saying to others, maybe us, I wouldn't know. They're everywhere; they remind me of ants running away from a magnifying glass.

When we finally manage to push through, I turn to Sarah trying to reassure her, but I don't. Her eyes wide and alert, she points behind me to my window and yells to us, "WATCH OUT!"

When I do turn, all I feel is the hard impact of the other car on my door, causing me to lurch to my right and land on Sarah. A loud cracking sound comes from my window, the glass shatters, flying everywhere and anywhere around me. The truck flies to the right, knocking me and everyone in it, out for the count. Everything's gone black.


	4. Sarah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the horrible grammar; I'll fix it up when I have time, but I was 14 when I wrote this! Enjoy!

**Sometime later** **…**

"Melanie? Mel?" I wake up with small hands shaking my shoulder. I'm lying on my right side and I can feel debris under my weight. Grunting, I prop my elbows on the ground, careful not to cut myself on the shattered glass beneath me.

"Ah, crap!" I say after grabbing onto Dad's car seat, which is leaning on its side like the rest of the car and its contents. Sharp pains hurt everything when I move, or try to at least. I have to blink several times to make sense of the scenario I am in.

When I finally manage to sit up, I find the truck's left back door above me, shielding me from the dangers of the outside; but not for long. "Oh, Sarah. Thank God." I say to her with relief. Looking around, I now see the destruction that the impact has caused.

The truck's roof is to my right, a dent pushed in from the top. I'm sitting on the right back door of the pickup truck, the glass underneath threatening to give me deep cuts in my skin. The car seats we were sitting on are now to my right, being used by Sarah as a weight support. I choose this time to analyze the condition I am currently in.

I find my backpack lying next to where my head was before we were knocked out. I carefully pick up my bag and drag it over to where I am. I can see Dad's limp body lying on his right arm on the front right door window, hopefully he isn't dead. The cuts on him are telling me otherwise. He has them all over his face, his arms. Is he dead? I don't know.

"Daddy?" Sarah finally notices Dad's limp body in front of us. "Hey. Hey!" she says to him after shaking him awake.

He's awake. Thank God. I am just about to climb over to him to help him to help him out, but he says to Sarah, "Get back, baby. Get back."

I finally look at the outside from the car's front window. Now I wish I hadn't. Sparks are flying everywhere from one of the street lamps nearby. People are still running wherever they can. I can see an Infected patient devouring a passenger in the car that crashed into us. His blood is painting the car's windows, but he's still alive. I gasp in horror and try not to empty the contents of my stomach in the car.

Holding on to the truck's roof, Dad kicks at the front window, attempting to escape. To window's is pushed out, shattering the glass as it lands on the ground. Dad climbs out and stands up, getting ready to offer me a hand. Just when I reach for him, an Infected man pushes Dad against the truck. "Dad!" I yell to him. He's pushing the man just as hard as the man is pushing him. His strangled roars and screams are pushing me back into the car in fear.

Just when he's about to take a chunk of flesh out of Dad, Uncle Tommy hits the man's head with a brick, causing his blood to spray the road and the man to land on the ground. Uncle Tommy gives me a reassuring nod as I witness the following event. "Dad?" Sarah calls out.

"I'm here, baby. I'm here. Mel, gimme your hand. I'll be right with you Sarah, just hold on." I reach out for Dad's hand, careful not to put too much of my weight onto the glass. I crouch to help Dad pull Sarah out of the truck. When we manage to get her out, she starts limping. "What is it?" I ask her, holding her steady.

"My leg hurts" she tells us, with a pained expression on her face. "How bad?" Dad asks.

"Pretty bad."

Uncle Tommy backing up towards us, tilts his head halfway and tells us shaking his head, "We're gonna need to run."

Dad, worrying about what will happen to us, hands his revolver over to Uncle Tommy. "You keep us safe!" he tells him.

Turning to me, he asks, "Do you still have the 9mm I got you last year?" I immediately take it out of my backpack and show it to him. "OK then honey, I'm gonna need you to use it, OK?" I nod slowly and swallow hard.

"You've already practiced plenty of times, so I'm pretty sure you can aim right." I look at the 9mm and back at Dad. He cups my cheek as he tells me, "Hey, it's going to be OK, honey. Now like I said to your Uncle Tommy just now, you keep us safe, alright?" I grip it firmly in my hand and turn off the safety trigger.

Dad looks around and back at Sarah. Grunting, he lifts her up and tells her, "Come on, baby. Now hold on tight!"

"Okay!" she replies.

We start running down the street, trying not to crash into other running people. I'm not even looking where I'm going, I'm just aimlessly and mindlessly running, doing as I'm told. "Daddy, I'm scared." Sarah whimpers.

"Mel- Watch out!" Uncle Tommy tells me, snapping me back to reality. The person running in front of me gets jumped by an Infected, and topples on the ground. The Infected man roars at him, and then begins his meal of human flesh.

"Just keep your eyes closed, honey." I hear Dad saying to Sarah, attempting to reassure her.

Uncle Tommy tells me to follow him and I do. We start running ahead of Sarah and Dad, guns in hand, ready to shoot. "Oh my- Oh my God." I hear Sarah whimpering. We and the people in front of us cower as we witness a car crash into the petrol station to our left, the ignited flame spreading like a virus.

We immediately turn right towards the alternate escape route. "Keep running!" Uncle Tommy tells us. Dad's heavy footsteps thud on the ground as Sarah clings onto his neck. Several buildings are caught on fire, and so are the people nearby.

"Those people are on fire." Sarah says to us in horror. The buildings' flames, now engulfing the people inside, are now also advancing towards the people around it. I slow down and run beside them, telling Sarah, "Don't look, Sarah."

"Just keep looking at me, baby." Dad tells her, before I run back towards where Uncle Tommy is.

We run past an abandoned fire truck and other burning buildings. People are running, running, and running. Cars keep on colliding with each other, drivers confused upon which direction to go. "Over there!" Uncle Tommy points for us.

"We're gonna get out of this, girls. I promise." I turn to Dad as he reassures me, not that I believe him. The Infected are everywhere, each of them roaring and chasing after their next victim. People are shoving us, everyone running from an approaching threat.

We keep running straight just before another fire is started in front of the Armadillo Theatre, obstructing our path once again. The people affected by the crash are feasted upon by the Infected, there are too many for me to even count, not that I wanted to.

"Oh my God! Where do we go?!" I ask with a panicked voice.

"There's too many of them! This way! Through the alley!" says Uncle Tommy to us, pointing towards an alley close by.

I keep following Uncle Tommy as he pushes the alley door. "Go!" he tells us. We run past a trashcan in the alley just before we come across an Infected man. We've just interrupted his meal. He immediately stops chewing on his victim's guts and lunges towards Dad. He pushes against the man's collarbone as he starts to flail around from behind Dad's free arm. Sarah starts to whimper and clings harder onto Dad's neck. I kick at the man's knee, knocking him off balance. Just when I am about to shoot him, Uncle Tommy comes to the rescue and shoots the man's head. "Jesus!" Dad exclaims, adjusting Sarah's position in his arms.

"We're almost there, baby. We're almost there." Dad is continuously reassuring Sarah like all this will stop eventually. Each time he does, I resist the urge to tell him to quit it. We run past several more garbage canisters as we run towards a pub. A fence nearby is being pushed against by several Infected, hoping to get to us.

"They're getting through the fence!" I yell to Dad and Uncle Tommy.

"Keep goin'! Find us a way outta here!" Dad yells to uncle Tommy as he runs ahead of us.

"Come _on_ , Mel! Keep up!" he tells me. "C'mon! Inside!" as he pushes open the pub door. Infected are climbing over a nearby wall, coming towards us. Snarling, and desperate for their latest meal.

I sprint inside so that I don't end up becoming one of them or their dinner. As Dad staggers inside, the Infected that managed to keep up start to push against the door, forcing me and Uncle Tommy to push against the door, not that any of my weight is helping.

"Get to the highway!" he tells us.

"What?" Dad says in disbelief.

"Go! You've got the kids! I can outrun 'em!" he replies.

"Uncle Tommy!" Sarah and I yell to him in unison.

"I will meet you there!" Dad says to him finally.

"Hurry! Get them of here! Go! Go!" he tells us.

"Mel, pass me your gun. You're gonna carry Sarah now, okay? You run faster than me, so I want you to carry her." I obey him immediately and him over my gun, carefully but quickly placing her on my back, piggyback position.

"Ready?" Dad asks me. Nodding, I kick open the door, causing Sarah to scream.

"Sorry, Sarah. Just hold on, okay?" I tell her.

"Daddy, we can't leave him!" Sarah says to Dad tearfully.

"He's gonna be fine, honey." Dad says to her as we start to run. My heart sinks after I see the amount of Infected outside.

"Get off road! We're going off road, okay, Mel?" I grip Sarah's legs harder and jump off the meter high ledge separating the pub's parking lot and the outside.

"He's gonna be fine, honey." Dad tells Sarah. We run several more meters into the outside. That's when I hear snarls and growls getting louder by the second. I ignore them at first but eventually I start to get paranoid of one of them taking a bite out of me.

"They're gettin' closer" Sarah says to me, barely audible enough to be counted as a whisper. Their footsteps are getting louder, they're getting closer. I can see their shadows from the knocked over bright beacon provided by the military.

Sarah's weight is starting to drag me down. I may be able to run fast, but not with a weight on my back. "Ugh! For God's sake, Sarah! Why are you so friggin' heavy?!" I yell as my back begins to fail me from her undeniably heavy weight.

"Do YOU wanna try having a broken leg?" she asks me in return, causing me to turn and glare at her. I start to sprint because I don't want them to keep up, but they are; I'm gonna have to keep running to the highway if I'm gonna get out of here.

I turn my head briefly to see how many there are, three of them, but they all are running in almost the same pace as me and Dad. "Oh my God! Why the hell are these things still chasing us?!" I yell to Dad. My legs are starting to burn and I can't breathe. I wanna cry, I want to break down. I can't take it anymore; this pain is just too much for me to bear.

"Just keep running! Whatever you do, don't turn back and don't stop!" he yells in reply.

We see a hill in front of us with a fallen ambulance van at the foot of it. Just when we're about to run up, we see another Infected crawl right towards us. “Dad!" I yell to him, panicking.

"Move to the right! To the right! Keep running, Melanie! Keep running!" I can feel their breath on the back of my neck when we finish running up the hill.

By the time we reach the top, I start to stagger and am about to fall. When I manage to get back up, I immediately turn away expecting the inevitable. Several shots are fired from an assault rifle, but not at us. I hear Sarah give a small scream just before I see the Infected's limp bodies slide down the hill. Sighing with relief, I hand Sarah over to Dad. "It's okay, baby. We're safe. We're safe." Dad tells her. He discreetly stuffs the gun in my bag.

Turning towards the soldier who shot the Infected, Dad hollers to him, "Hey! We need help! Please. It's my daughter; I think her leg's broken."

The soldier is motioning for us to stay where we are and yells to us, "Stop right there!"

Backing away, Dad says in a vulnerable tone to him, "Look… We're not sick."

"Got a few civilians in the outer perimeter. Please advise." I see the soldier say into his communicator.

"Daddy, what about Uncle Tommy?" Sarah asks Dad.

"Sarah, your leg-" I start, attempting to reason with her.

"We're gonna get you to safety and then go back for him, okay?" Dad says.

The soldier continues to speak through the communicator. "Sir, there are kids here. But- Yes, sir."

"Oh God. Dad, is he actually going to-?" I ask Dad as I start to hyperventilate. Judging by the look on Dad's face, he's guessed the same thing.

"Listen, buddy. We've just been through hell. Okay. We just need-" Dad stops midway, when I turn to the soldier. He's aiming his rifle right at us.

"No, no, no." I say repeatedly shaking my head. I feel like our backs are against the wall and that there isn't anything we can do about it. It's because there isn't.

"Oh, shoot." Dad mutters finally. The soldier starts firing and as I back away, I end up rolling down the hill, landing hard on my back, causing me to cough out all the breath I have left in my lungs. I hear Sarah and Dad scream as they land on the hard, dusty ground.

The footsteps of the soldier are approaching, closer and closer towards us. I lift my head up and see the soldier aiming at Dad, ready to shoot. "Please, don't." Dad whimpers to him, one hand holding his side which he landed on and shaking his head. I am about to shut my eyes, preparing for the worst when I see blood spraying out of the soldier's head. I turn to see Uncle Tommy approaching us, revolver in his hands with both arms extended.

I’m just about to thank him until he lowers his gun and utters the words, "Oh no." His gaze is focused on Sarah. Dad and I immediately turn to her, Dad desperately crawls towards her. I force myself to move every limb that I possibly can and drag myself as quickly as I can to where Sarah is.

Her hands are covering her abdomen, where the bullet holes are. Her blood loss will eventually kill her, seeing how much of it has spread across her shirt. I've never seen her like this, in such a painful and vulnerable position. "Move your hands, baby" says Dad to her. Her hands are shaking as they move, desperately trying to find someone to hold on to. Her gaze meets mine as she shakily attempts to hold on to my arms; her blood coated hands find my cheek, sweeping them with a moist deep crimson.

I pull her small hands off of my face and bring them to my lap, which is to her left. Her bleats of pain are forcing tears of regret to pour out of my eyes like a waterfall. Dad is applying pressure on the bullet wound to stop the blood flowing any more than it already is. Her blood is continuously spreading, over Dad's hands, her shirt.

"I know this hurts, baby. I know, I know. You're gonna be okay, baby. Stay with me."

He's choking back his tears, I'm bawling my eyes out and I can't think straight any more. Sarah's blood coated hands are being held in mine, so tightly that the only color that can be seen is red from the blood covering her hands.

"Alright, honey. I'm gonna pick you up. I know, baby. I know it hurts."

Sarah continues her bleating as Dad attempts to lift her up. She's crying just as much as I am; maybe even more, besides I'm not the one with bullets inside me. "Just hold on, Sarah. Just hold on." I tell her, my tears making my words hard to understand. There’s no point in even telling her. She's as good as dead.

She goes stiff as a solitary tear slides down her cheek. I freeze and release her hands, my own shaking. Uncle Tommy walks over to us slowly, attempting to comfort Dad. "Sarah..! Baby..!"

Dad's shaking and rocking back and forth as he holds Sarah's cold, lifeless body. "Don't do this to me, baby. Don't do this to me, baby girl. Come on…" Dad's lip starts to quiver. "No, no…" He lifts her up and holds her close to his chest, her eyes remain unblinking; her lips half open, not responding to Dad's pleas.

"Oh, no, no, no… Please." Dad's crying is making me break down, and I do.

I cover my face with one hand as I lie on my side, crying my eyes out until all my tears have dried up, but they haven't. I'm still crying. This isn't real, I tell myself. But it is. It is. This is real. Sarah's timid smiles have been erased, out of my memory. Her laugh whenever I'd pick her up and over my shoulder, despite her unbelievably heavy weight. Nothing happy comes to mind, and it might be a while until it does. My only sister, the light of my life, the source of my happiness, is gone. Dead to the world, dead to us.

"Oh, God… Please, please, don't do this." The tears keep coming and I don't think they ever plan on stopping. "Please, God…" Dad says finally, allowing his tears to finish the job. How long will we continue to mourn? Who knows? Only God does.

God help us all.


	5. Recruitment from Rebels

**3 years later...**

The storm clouds of a nightmare appear before us, a pouring downfall waiting to happen. I stick my nose up in the air, awaiting the scent of moist earth and bathed woods. My hair and face are getting wet as I walk, briskly enough to keep up with Dad and Uncle Tommy.

"Where the hell are we even going?" I ask Dad. The only thing I can see is the back of his head and his wet jacket. No response. He's ignoring me. Treating me like the fucking invisible child again, just because Sarah's gone. He's been like this ever since.

I still miss her. Every time I think about her, I want to break down. Her blond hair and gray eyes are a few of the only things I remember about her. My memory of her has become a blur. Each time I forget, I have to take out my photo album.

Pictures can't remind you of everything, only of moments, how a person looks. They can't remind you of what their voice sounds like, how they laugh either. That's the case for Sarah; I only remember how she looks because of these pictures. Without them, she's nothing but a blurred and missing memory. I sure as hell don't plan on showing them to Dad; not after how he's treated me. He doesn't even know I have this album in the first place.

"We're looking for a place to set up shop. Get some shut-eye. The usual, you know." Uncle Tommy replies on Dad's behalf. Dad's hair is still dark like mine, kept short for convenience, but just a few gray hairs that are out of place can be seen on the top of his head. He's getting old. His beard is starting to become scraggly because of years of not shaving. Uncle Tommy's brown hair is long and scruffy, after 3 years of no haircuts. We stop walking after we find an abandoned cabin in the woods.

After we unload our stuff inside the cabin, Dad says to us, avoiding eye contact with me, "I'm gonna go take a piss. Stay on guard, see if there's anything we can use." He walks out of the cabin, closing the door briskly. I immediately take out my photo album and randomly browse through it. My gaze falls on Bowling Night with the Coopers. I see myself at last, I look so happy spending time with Andy and Sarah. They're both gone now though, and so am I. I look nothing like I used to. I don't keep my hair loose anymore; I'm always keeping it in a ponytail. In days when I'm not bothered, I'll just tie it in a bun and stuff it in my beanie.

"You know, you're gonna have to show him at some point." Startled, I close the album after hearing the voice that interrupted my thoughts. I look to my right shoulder to find Uncle Tommy kneeling down beside me, looking at the album. I stuff the album in my backpack, underneath the several cans of food we found the other day.

Zipping up my bag, I tell him, "Nope. He's acting like a fucking dick to me, why should I show him this when he's treating me as shitty as this? If he'd stop treating me like I'm fucking invisible, maybe I'd show it to him. I don't plan on showing him this, unless he starts to treat me like his daughter again; which he isn't."

Sighing, Uncle Tommy asks me as he opens a can of peaches, "What about doing something for a cause? Don't you want that?" Frowning, I look at him and ask, "Why the sudden topic change?"

"I got an offer a while back."

"An offer..." I repeat to him.

"From the Fireflies."

I raise a questioning eyebrow at him then ask, "As in... the anti-government rebels?" He raises both his eyebrows at me, making me glare at him.

"So, what? What's so important about them? More importantly why and HOW did you even get an offer from them in the first place?" I ask him as I open a can of pineapples from my bag. "Well", he starts as he chews on his peaches, "remember when we were ambushed by that group of Runners at that old gas station in Atlanta?" I nod to him as I toss the can lid aside. "Do you also remember how I went missing for a good few minutes while we split up to look for supplies after taking those Runners out?"

**2-3 weeks ago...**

"Alright. Tommy, start looking around for supplies." Dad says to him.

I ask, "Should I go, too?" OF _COURSE_. No reply from my fucking ignorant Dad. "Let's split up. I'll take this way, Mel. You take the other, alright?" I nod, sadly. I was hoping Dad would reply, but he didn't. Uncle Tommy did. "Alright, we'll meet up back here when we're done, okay?" Uncle Tommy says to me.

"I'll give you a holler." I tell him quietly.

I start by going through the items on the shelves in the food aisle. Frustrated, I mutter to myself, "Damn it. Everything's been picked clean." Just at the corner of my eye, I see a packet of chips underneath the shelf. Full of hope, I snatch it and hug it tightly near my chest, almost popping the packet. It's been so long since I last had something salty; all I've been having these past 3 years were canned fruits. Sighing with relief, I stuff it into my backpack and look around for anything else that could be of use.

Failing to find anything else, I walk back to where Uncle Tommy told us to meet up at. I climb onto one of the pay counters and sit beside a cashier machine, allowing my legs to dangle off the edge. Three, four, five minutes pass. Still no sign of Uncle Tommy. There's almost nothing useful in here, why would he take so long just to get a few bits of food scraps? Dad stands by one of the cold beverage fridges and leans against the door. Swinging my legs back and forth, I look up at the ceiling.

It's been a while since I've seen light coming from electricity. The only kinds of light I've been seeing lately are the sun's and moon's lights, both glowing against my skin. The sun's; radiant and warm, and the moon's; cooling and bright.

I hop off the counter and slide my backpack off my shoulder and drop it onto the floor. I quickly pull my baseball bat off of one of the custom hooks I made on my backpack. Slowly, I walk over to the other end of the gas station's convenience store, gripping my bat with both hands as hard I can, ready to face anything. "Uncle Tommy?" I call out loudly. No answer. "UNCLE TOMMY!" I yell from halfway across. I hear shuffling sounds coming from behind the shelf. "Okay, then. You asked for it." I say to behind the shelf, raising the bat above my head.

**TOMMY'S POV**

**Around 5 minutes ago...**

Skimming through the shelves thoroughly isn't doing me any good. All the shelves have been picked clean, and so have the stuff underneath them. "Damn. Nothing useful here."

As I turn towards the last shelf at the dim end of the store, gloved hands cover my mouth and my body is dragged down to the ground. I randomly start slapping my kidnapper's head, which is covered by a cotton head wrap. He shifts a little and his grip on me stronger than ever. I give up on my slapping and elbow is his unprotected rib cage, causing his grip on my face to falter and a faint grunt of pain to escape his covered lips. His bandana is wrapped around his face, masking his identity. I head-butt him using the back of my head, the impact attacking hard his face.

I pull his body over my shoulder and watch him flip over, landing on his back. I pin him down on the floor, my forearm on his Adam's apple pressing it hard. He starts to make choked, strangled sounds. His breaths quickening because of the lack of air in his lungs. Just when I'm about to finish him off, I feel hard, cold metal being pressed to the side of my head. Turning off the safety trigger, I hear the person whisper to me, "Let him go. Right now."

Squinting, I turn my head slightly and ask sarcastically, "And if I don't?" In the corner of my eye, I see my perpetrator. A dark skinned woman with her curly jet black hair tied into a bun at the back of her head.

"I'm pretty sure you'll know what happens."

I notice the Firefly armband she and my attacker have on their bright yellow jackets. I'm being threatened by their leader. I've seen her WANTED posters with her face on it. The government has a bounty on her head, and I'm kneeling right here, right in front of her, threatening to get shot by her. I take this opportunity to ask, "Now, what's a Firefly like you doing here at this side of the country, _Marlene_?"

"Sightseeing."

Complete and utter bullcrap.

"You've got guts," she tells me. "You actually were going to finish him off now, weren't you?" she asks me. "Well, _HE_ threatened to kill _ME_ ; I was just returning the favor." I reply flatly. Chuckling silently, she asks me, "How about you put your remaining strength into something worthwhile?"

"Like...?"

"If you did something for a cause, would you be willing to devote yourself to it? My cause plans on providing one thing for the people of the United States and one thing only: hope."

What the hell is she asking me? Is she asking me to JOIN her little anti-government militia? Pausing, I ask her, "Are you asking me to join you, Marlene?"

Pulling the gun away, I turn my head towards her and see her shrug her shoulders. "You've got the skill set, you seem dedicated. Our country deserves better than this. The people here are fighting for scraps, rations are lower than ever. The people here need something to hold on to; my answer for them is hope. I figured you wanted to have a part in that. Some change is refreshing, after all."

I think about it for a few seconds. We're already on the run from Infected, is she now asking me to be on the run from the government, too? What about Melanie? Joel's still in that trance of his, he can take care of himself, but Mel?

"Hell, Marlene. I'm a family man. I've gotta take care of my niece since her own dad won't even be willing to do it. I will have a think about it, though. That about alright with you?"

She sure is taking her own sweet time with this. She ain't answering.

Approaching footsteps are getting louder, closer and closer. "Come on now, Marlene. Time's ticking away." Still no answer from the damn woman.

"Do we have a deal or not, damn it?!" I hiss at her. I'm at the point of wanting to yell. It takes every fibre in my body to keep me from screaming my head off.

"Okay! Fine then!" she snaps at me. "You'll find us at the nearest campsite, alright? It's just a few miles north from here."

"UNCLE TOMMY!" Mel's yelling at me now. She's probably worried. "Okay, then. You asked for it."

I immediately stand up, acting as normally and naturally as I can. I lean against the nearest shelf that I can find. "Oh! Hey, Mel! Uh, so, did you find anything useful?" I can see her starting to relax. She was planning to hit me with the bat if I hadn't stood up and shown myself. "Oh! Jeez, Uncle Tommy! You scared the living hell out of me!" Turning to the shelf, I say, "Yeah. Nothing to worry about. Anyways, you find anything useful?"

Sheepishly, she tells me, "Well, yeah. I guess. I found this packet of chips and-" Chuckling, I tell her, "You can have it. Don't think I can stomach stuff like that anymore. Come on, let's get outta here." As I walk past her towards the exit, I notice a small smile form on her lips.

When I turn one last time, I see them slipping out of the window, into the dark.

**2-3 weeks later...**

"Well, I got confronted by a couple of them there." Uncle Tommy tells me.

"WHAT?!" I ask in utter horror and shock. "Are you okay?! Did they shoot you?!"

Grinning sheepishly, he says to me, "Relax. They can't do anything to your Uncle Tommy." I roll my eyes at him and say, "Damn it, Uncle Tommy. I'm not a kid anymore." Sliding his empty can a few meters away from him, he says to me, "I know. All I'm saying is that we could do something for a cause. Together, you know. You're 17. I get that you don't want to spend your time with an old man of an uncle like me."

Snorting, I ask him, "Your point is..?"

"We could continue living like this, no purpose. Just surviving. Killing Infected whenever we'd need to. Or, we could be doing the same thing, but for a purpose. Plus, being on the run from the government. I mean, look at the state we're in. Is the government doing anything about it all?"

I briefly think about it for a minute or so. "But, Dad said we shouldn't get involved with them. I mean-"

Frustratedly, he puts his hand on my head. "Mel, look me in the eye and answer this. Is your dad even taking care of you right now in any way? Look at him, he's a wreck. Emotionally, at least."

I stare at the wooden floorboards that I am sitting on. Should I? This is my chance. The God-awful treatment that Dad's been giving me can finally be gotten rid of if I leave. But, if I do leave, Dad's gonna lose his only other daughter. My heart aches at the thought of Sarah. My heart aches even more for a Dad that still loves me.

"Alright. When should we go?" I ask him quietly.

"Tomorrow. We're gonna tell him then, alright?"


	6. Estranged on the Road

**That night...**

The cabin's wooden roof is facing me now. The cold, splintery floor is beneath me, uncomfortable and creaky. Inside the cabin is only a slight improvement compared to the outside. The only difference here is that there's a roof over our heads and that we have walls and a door to protect us from the outside; but not for as long as we think. Infected can still break in here, whether we like it or not. We just have to be prepared for that moment.

It's hard, sleeping on the floor like this. No pillows, no blankets or mattresses either. All I've got is the soft and empty-ish part of my bag as my pillow, and my hoodie as a makeshift blanket wrapped around my cold and frail body. The cold air outside snuck its way in here from under the door and the cabin's dank windows. I tilt my head slightly to the right to observe the droplets of rain attacking the windows. Tilting my head to the left, I see Dad and Uncle Tommy lying beside each other on their sides, asleep; their chests expanding every time they would inhale.

Normally, I would try to ignore reality by putting on my headphones and playing music until I sleep; but I can't. I have my phone, I have a charger. Note that I said _a_ charger, not my own. I took it from an abandoned electronics store not too long ago. _Why_ I took it, I don't even know. What I don't have is electricity. I haven't been able to tell the time for 3 years, unable to charge my phone in any way. I wonder if they have electricity where the Fireflies are.

It's dark out. No thunder, just a downpour that's been going at it since noon. Now I'm starting to wish I hadn't forgotten my watch in my room. I feel useless without it, since I was always the one telling the time to my friends. I wonder what time it is now. I can't tell.

Oh well. I might as well just get some sleep...

**The next morning...**

The light of morning is surprisingly blinding. Its brightness makes looking around an almost impossible task; especially when curtains are an unavailable option. Squinting at the window, I pull my jacket hood over my face, trying to take in as much of my sleepiness as I can.

Over the creaking floorboards, I hear footsteps approaching me. "Hey. Get up, Mel. Come on. It's morning." Uncle Tommy is shaking me awake. I pull my hood off slightly so I can see him. Using my free hand, I push his arm away, his grip unfaltering. "Ugh. Go away, Uncle Tommy. I wanna sleep." I grunt at him.

Scoffing, he whispers discreetly to me, "Fine, then. I'll just head over to the Fireflies on my own and leave you here with an emotional wreck of a dad."

I immediately sit upright and stretch tirelessly. "YAWN. Umm, let's get going then, Uncle Tommy!" I tell him in a sarcastically enthusiastic tone in my voice. I just need to sarcastically swing my arm back and forth so that I can become the sarcastic swash-buckling 'pirate-Girl Scout' I was born to be.

Rolling his eyes while refraining from smiling, he picks up my bag and tosses it at me, aiming at my face. I slide across the floor to avoid it, causing my shoes to skid across the floorboards. "Melanie, was that REALLY necessary? You could've just caught it, you know." Uncle Tommy says to me, giving me this sarcastic withering gaze.

Frowning at him, I pick up my backpack and throw it over my shoulders. I pull my hood off of my head, revealing the messy ponytail hiding underneath. I run my fingers through my hair, pushing my bangs out of my face.

In a world like this, it's almost impossible to have fun anymore, so yes; it is nice to joke around with Uncle Tommy once in a while. There may even be kids my age when we join the Fireflies. I don't know. I hope so, at least.

"Where's Dad?" I ask Uncle Tommy. "He's doing a Number 1."

"Oh. Again?" I ask him with what I think was a surprised look on my face.

"Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go."

We walk over to the cabin door and open it. I scurry down the creaky wooden stairs and tilt my head back as soon as my feet come in contact with the rough terrain to inhale the scent of moist pine. I close my eyes to attempt having a flashback and succeed. I remember morning hikes with Dad and Sarah.

I'd always be too tired to continue walking while Sarah would be speed walking over the mountain like terrain. She'd always looked like a squirrel scurrying from one place to the other. Dad would always be way ahead of us both, navigating the route for our hikes. Then there was me, trudging my feet in the dirt, being forced to come along and always in a cranky mood from my lack of sleep on most days. Reason being, I was on my laptop half the time. This was a happy memory of mine, despite me not being the happy one in this particular one.

Upon opening my eyes, I hear familiar footsteps approaching from a row of pine trees in front of us. Dad's bristly beard is the first thing I see coming out from between the trees. For a second, his eyes come in contact with mine. They flicker away almost immediately. He puts his hand behind his head and says, "Come on. You guys ready?"

My heart skips a beat. Did he just say 'you guys' to us? Normally, he'd just acknowledge Uncle Tommy and totally ignore me, so THIS is an awkwardly pleasant surprise.

Looking over at Uncle Tommy, he raises an eyebrow at me then narrows his eyes at Dad. "Joel, you feeling alright?" he asks him.

"Tommy, I'm fine."

"You've treated her like shit all this time and only now you see her?"

Dad looks over at me with a mournful look on his face. "Mel, I haven't been treating you right these past 3 years. I was wrong to just ignore you after-"

He swallows hard and continues, "After Sarah died. I still had you. I didn't know what to do, and something inside me snapped. I couldn't lose you too, so I decided to pretend you didn't exist. It was hard for me, constantly having to look away from you every time you wanted to speak to me, but I managed; with a consequence. You hate me now. I was wrong to treat you that way. I'm sorry, Melanie. You have to remember, Sarah was everything to me, to us. She was our baby girl."

I ball up my hands into fists and swallow hard, slowly ingesting what Dad had just said to me. He's apologizing. He knew I was here. I knew it. Uncle Tommy thought it was a daze, but he was wrong. He knew I was here, he always did. He just chose to ignore me. He didn't want to lose me?

"You-you didn't want to lose me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I say to Dad a little too harshly.

"Melanie-" Uncle Tommy says to me. Is he seriously trying to defend Dad now? Wasn't _HE_ the one that convinced me to leave because of Dad?

"I loved you too much to let you go. No dad should have to deal with seeing his own kid dying before he does. I've had to deal with that once already; I do _not_ wanna go through that again. You understand me, honey? At least by ignoring you, I could pretend that you were never my kid." Dad says to me in the vulnerable voice he used when we were confronted by the soldier who shot Sarah.

I give him a spiteful glare and start to yell at him, "Oh yeah? You could've just asked for some privacy or some time alone! All this time, Uncle Tommy kept on trying to convince me that you were just in a daze, but I knew better. I knew that you were ignoring me because you never cared about me! All you care about is Sarah, and she's dead! She's dead, okay?! This is reality! It will bite you in the ass every time you let your guard down and you need to fucking wake up! I'm still here!"

I continue screaming at Dad. My voice is starting to get squeaky, my face is going red. I'm mindlessly pouring out all of the anger that I've managed to keep in all these years. By the time I'm done, I'm breathing heavily and watching Dad's mournful expression turn into one of pain and hurt. A long sad silence fills the air, for about 3 minutes; when angry, it feels like eternity.

Looking towards the road, I say gruffly to both Dad and Uncle Tommy, "I'll go first. You'll catch up with me eventually."

After walking a few steps forward, I pass by Dad's tall and stocky figure, staring at his shoes, a forlorn look on his face.

"Why are you acting like this?"

I freeze at those words. "WH-WHAT did you just say?" I ask him hotly.

"You heard me. I'm treating you like my daughter again, the way I should, the way you want me to. Why are you acting like this? I've owned up. Now it's about time _you_ did. _Both_ of you."

He heard us talking about it last night. Go figure. Forgot that he's a fantastic listener, having him listen in on that conversation was the last thing I need, but right now it isn't.

I turn around and say "We're joining the Fireflies. Got a problem with it, old man?" I say it to him without even batting an eyelid.

"Yes, I have a problem with it!" he says to me raising his voice. "What did you think? That I'd just let you stroll on out of here right to them without even telling me?! How many times have I told you that we ain't getting' involved with their anti-government shenanigans?! Now, you're going against everything I've been telling you these past 3 years!"

I immediately use what Uncle Tommy said to me to my advantage. "You NEVER said _ANYTHING_ to me! You couldn't have cared less about me for the past 3 years! You ignored me for 3 whole years, and only now you say that you've been telling me, too?! You were telling Uncle Tommy, never me! I was just a ghost to you! Boy, you were a FANTASTIC actor! You didn't even bat an eyelid when you treated me as if I was fucking invisible! You-"

I'm surprised no storm clouds have started to show up with us yelling like this, and it's only morning. The sun's rays are glaring at me, either commanding me to stop or to continue railing on Dad. Either way, I refuse to acknowledge Option 1.

" _BOTH_ of you! That's enough!" Uncle Tommy yells to us both, startling me. Uncle Tommy NEVER yells. I didn't even know he could up until now. I've only heard him raise his voice, like on the day the Cordyceps hit, never a yell though, so it's definitely a first for me. Not so sure about Dad, though...

"Oh, only _now_ you come to my rescue?" Dad snaps at Uncle Tommy accusingly.

"Hell no, I'm not, Joel!"

Dumbfounded, Dad gives him a frustrated and questioning look.

"Listen, I'm only here to emphasize on what Mel's been _TRYING_ to say to you" he says giving me a hard look, and then continues, "Going on like this ain't getting us anywhere. We figured that if we joined the Fireflies, we might be getting' somewhere at least; a fresh start for all of us. We'll be in a group, larger numbers means more protection and safety, likeliness of being killed by Infected or even other people is a lot less. Besides, we just might be able to live normally again if we go to them. Marlene promised us hope, and we plan on gettin' it. Clear enough for you, big brother?"

After a moment's silence, Dad scoffs and asks us smugly, both crossed over his chest, "So how exactly do you plan on finding 'em? They move around so often that they'd be pretty hard to find. Besides, when did that crazy chick of a leader of theirs speak to you?"

Infuriated, I step closer to Dad and say in a low and angry voice, "She is _NOT_ crazy."

"Joel, that ain't any of your business. What I'm saying is that Mel and I plan on going there right now, with or without you."

Shaking his head, Dad says to us, "Come on now, this is ridiculous. We are survivors! We ain't just gonna join up with 'em just cuz their leader decided to play carrot-on-stick with you! It's suicide! The government will be on your tail and there ain't anybody comin' to help you out! The civilians are just gonna stand by and watch it all happen. They're all too scared of the government to back you up, anyways."

Exasperatedly, I throw both my hands up in the air and scream, "You don't decide what we want to do with our lives!" I calm down after about a minute or so and say softly, "It's a free country. All I'm saying is, we'll fight for that hope. I don't care what it takes, I'm willing to fight for that hope and die trying rather than living with no reason anymore. Sorry, Dad. You're on your own on this one."

"You two are staying! And that's final!" Dad yells.

"Joel, this is pointless, okay?! We're going! And you ain't stoppin' us!" Uncle Tommy yells back.

"Yes, I AM." Dad says before lunging at Uncle Tommy. He dives and tackles Uncle Tommy, pinning him down on the ground, a loud thud mixed with the sound of gravel and dirt shifting underneath Uncle Tommy's weight. Dad starts punching hard at Uncle Tommy's ribs, each hit causing a gasp and a scream of agony to escape from his lips.

"NO! Leave him alone!" I yell at Dad. He continues to punch him, harder each time. He's ignoring me, AGAIN. _What a surprise_!

I let out a long tired sigh. "You asked for it." I drop my backpack onto the ground and slip my bat out from the hooks. I breathe heavily and walk slowly up to Dad. He won't stop.

"Gahh! Damn it, Joel! GAHH!" Uncle Tommy cries between hits. It's obvious that he's having trouble breathing now.

"Dad, just stop. Please." I say to him from his right side. He ain't even listening.

Gripping my bat hard, I raise it, place it on my right shoulder and prepare to swing it hard, treating it like a golf club, aiming at his side. Should I do it? He's my dad. This could scar him for life. No. He's already scarred me enough, why shouldn't _I_ do the same?

I let out a scream and whack his side with my bat, hard. He immediately stops and screams in agony, putting both hands on his side. I think I fractured one of his ribs, I'm not sure. Uncle Tommy shoves him off, allowing Dad to collapse onto the ground, rolling a foot or two away.

I kneel to Uncle Tommy and help him sit up. "Oh, shit. Are you okay?"

Glaring at me, he hisses at me, "Do I look fucking okay to you?" He starts coughing - no not coughing - hacking up blood.

I'm super mad. Not just at Dad and Uncle Tommy. I'm angry with myself for giving in to my anger and whacking Dad with the bat. I knew shouldn't have done that, now I wish I hadn't.

As I help Uncle Tommy stand up, his eyes are fixed on one thing: Dad's limp body. We slowly walk towards him, towering over his body when we reach him. He winces each time he attempts to sit up.

Uncle Tommy kneels down beside him and grips his jacket collar hard, jerking him up. "Now you listen to me, Joel. What you did there was unacceptable. If I wasn't your brother, I'd kill you right here and now. But I am, so you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna fucking leave you here to rot. Don't even think about following us because I don't ever want to see your goddamn face again. You're on your own from now on. Are we clear?"

Dad doesn't respond. He passed out.

"Alright, come on now, Mel." Uncle Tommy says to me as he releases Dad's collar. He starts walking towards the road after getting up.

I stare at Dad's body in shame. I'm the reason he's like that now. I can't just leave him like that. Even though I hate him, I'm not inhumane enough to just leave him here for the Infected to feast on.

"Wait."

Uncle Tommy turns around with a confused look on his face. "What is it?"

"We can't just leave him here." I tell him. "I know he deserves it, but.." I hesitate before continuing, "..come on. We're not that inhumane, are we?"

After looking at Dad and back at me several times, sighing, he walks over to Dad's body and says to me, "Open up the cabin door while I lift him up inside."

Sighing with relief, I obey him.

After putting Dad in the cabin and shutting the door behind us, he looks over at me and asks, "You ready for this?"

"Yeah."

And so, we make our way to the Fireflies.


	7. New Places, New Friends

**4 weeks later** **…**

"Damn it. Are we there yet?" I ask Uncle Tommy tiredly as we continue trudging along the road.

Coming back to Atlanta was one hell of a trip, especially after 'The Cabin Incident'. Uncle Tommy ended up with this huge blue-black bruise covering the left side of his rib area after the punches Dad provided him with. He had trouble walking for about a week or so. He's better now, compared to our first week on the road.

Seeing the number of abandoned cars makes me want to laugh, a dry and humorless laugh. Luckily there aren't any corpses, but if there were, they would've either been dragged out by Infected for their dinner or just lying lifelessly in a mass decaying flesh. Most ran out the moment the Cordyceps hit. No one wanted to get Infected, then again, who did?

My shoes brush against clumps of weeds growing from the cracks in the road. Soon, it'll be much more than just weeds. Nature's taking over, with or without us.

"We're almost there, Mel. Just another mile or two." Uncle Tommy says to me without turning around.

"You've been saying that for the past hour or so. At least I think it's been an hour." I say to him quietly.

Looking up at Uncle Tommy's back, I see that he's stopped walking. What the hell's he even doing?

"Uh.. Uncle Tommy? Why'd you stop?" I ask him as I slowly walk over beside him; only then I see why. A sign that leads to a dirt path going off road is hanging from one of the street lamps in front of us.

" **FIREFLIES CAMP. FOLLOW DIRT ROAD.** ”Uncle Tommy reads aloud. Smirking, he looks over at me and says, "Well, whaddaya know? We found 'em."

Rolling my eyes, I pull my beanie off my head and stuff it into my pocket. I whip my hair several times to get it out of my face. I attempt to pull the excess hair into my ponytail and fail, so I tuck the loose strands behind my ear then turn to Uncle Tommy and ask, "Should we get going?"

Looking ahead of us, he replies, "Hell yeah. Let's do this."

 -

Walking along the dirt road, I choose this time to observe my surroundings. Since walking along it, all sunlight has been blocked out because of the number of trees concealing the light. The oaks' leaves provide shade, granted, but it's hard to see anything else other than the trees' bases and the dirt road.

It's too quiet. We can't even hear any forest animals. No birds. No squirrels; I mean, I get that there'll be no squirrels since the Infected will need something to eat that's within reach, but come on. What happened to the rest of them? The only sounds that can be heard are our breathing and the sound of our shoes crunching against the baked earth. It must've been a while since others have shown up. This silence is so eerie, that it's sending shivers both up and down my spine, and only then I realize why.

I pale as soon as I see Uncle Tommy stretch his arm out to his side in front of me, ordering me to freeze. I hold my breath and pray for the worst not to happen.

"We know you're here. You're watchin' us. Trying to creep the fuck out of us. We've come here to join you, so show yourselves." Uncle Tommy says to the trees.

"Are we even in the right place? What if it's a trap or something?" I whisper to Uncle Tommy, questioningly.

Silence. Nothing but the sounds of our breathing, up until 'they' emerge from the shadows. About three armed men in yellow uniforms with the Firefly armband on their jackets emerge from behind the trees, either to greet us or kill us. Hopefully, it's Option 1. One of them looks to be in his mid-forties, the other two look slightly older than me.

One of the younger ones glances at me then turns to Uncle Tommy asking, "Hey, old man. This shrimp here with you?" Did that jerk just call me _'shrimp'_? I'm not that small, I'm only a couple of inches shorter than Uncle Tommy!

Before I can open my mouth to throw the best insult I can to the jerk that called me ‘shrimp’, the older one hisses at him, still facing us, "Keep your comments to yourself, Mark. Cut them some slack, they just got here."

"Jeez. I was only kidding, Pops." Mark mutters under his breath. I can see his dirty blond hair sticking out from underneath his baseball cap.

Rolling his eyes, the older one speaks up. "Sorry about that. He's just been having trouble with taking a crap these past few days. So he's been taking it out on everyone he can." I frown at him and turn to Uncle Tommy for reassurance, giving him a dumbfounded look on my face.

I see that he is about to protest when the third Firefly gives him a look which immediately gets him to stop all together.

"Name's Gary", the older one says, pointing at the two younger ones, he continues, "You just met constipated Mark. This here's John."

John nods his head to both of us. His clean shave is the first thing I notice about him, so is the green army camo boonie hat at the top of his head.

Gary's features are the standard for a man from Atlanta; brown hair, brown eyes, brown beard. I'm just happy to know that he acknowledges my presence, but I don't like the way Uncle Tommy and him are looking at each other. Did something happen between the two of them before this?

Smirking, Gary asks Uncle Tommy, "So, you still capable of throwing me over your shoulder? I could attack you again if you want to demonstrate to the kids."

Snorting, I reply, "We aren't interested in fighting here. We came to join the Fireflies and here we are now. Are you gonna fucking take us to Marlene or not?"

John looks over at Gary and whispers to him. Judging by Gary's laugh, I'm guessing he enjoys hearing my dry sense of humor. "Alright, you two. Come on over. Let's head for camp."

Crossing my arms, I turn my head at an angle and give Uncle Tommy the best smirk that I can come up with. He snorts in reply as I remove one arm and offer him my fist. Fist bumps, one of my favorite features in a relationship, whether it's between friend or family.

After walking for about 10-15 minutes, we approach a faded wooden sign just below the trees. The writing that used to be on it has been spray painted over with multiple Firefly logos. I can only make out the last two words: Summer Camp.

As we enter the Fireflies-only domain, Gary announces to us, "This is it. I'll call Marlene over. John and Mark, you can go now." Turning to Uncle Tommy and me, he says, "You two stay put. I'll be right back."

Looking around, I see multiple wooden cabins lying around. Judging by the activities that they've all chosen to proceed with, The Fireflies all together look to be about 100 or so people all together. Not bad for a three year old anti-government militia.

About five abandoned pick-up buses are scattered around, untouched since the Cordyceps hit. It was in the beginning of the school year when it happened, so I'm pretty sure the camp advisors and staff left just before school started.

I look up at the sky and notice how pretty it looks today. Streaks of rosy pink and baby blue are painted along the clouds, making an announcement for the coming fall. We've walked all the way to Atlanta but it was totally worth it. We made it. We found the Fireflies.

I look over to my left and see a hand-to-hand combat training session going on at a small patch of grass which I assume was an old fencing.. 'arena'. Abandoned fencing gear had been stuffed into a basket at old tree nearby.

The shouts of encouragement and jeering coming from the training area can be heard all the way from the ‘Warden's’ office, the biggest cabin in camp, which is about a 100 meters away from where we are. I'm guessing Marlene and the other leaders stay there because I see Gary pop out from the main entrance with who I assumed was Marlene. I'd only seen a couple of WANTED posters to know what she looks like. Judging by the cringes of disgust on their faces, I'm guessing they can hear the cheering all the way from there. I purse my lips to keep from cracking up.

I look to my right and about 15 meters away; I see a small dug up pit with ash and burnt wood. An abandoned campfire. Large logs are surrounding it, which I'm guessing are supposed to be 'lounging chairs' for the night. I notice several teenagers approaching carrying about 4 logs each, for the campfire I suppose, laughing. Telling each other jokes. It all seems so.. surreal. I haven’t seen anything so.. _normal_ in ages.

Farther away, I see a practice dummy leaning against a tree equipped with a fencing helmet. Rocks are being thrown at it by a few young men, target practice, I guess.

It's quite a comfort for me to see so many people relaxed in such a small settlement, the porches of the cabins tempt me for a moment as I see a couple reading. Candles in lanterns are being used to light up the camp now that it's getting dark. A nearby Firefly approaches Uncle Tommy and offers him a lantern; he accepts it.

Marlene finally approaches us, smiling warmly at us, she says, "Well, it's good to see you again-" she pauses. I think she wants to know Uncle Tommy's name.

An awkward silence hangs in the air. I turn my head to face Uncle Tommy. Is he in a daze or something? I elbow him gently and gesture to him using my head at Marlene. "Huh? Oh. Yeah, name's Tommy. This here's my niece, Melanie." I raise an eyebrow at him before I give Marlene a small wave and a half-smile.

Marlene starts informing us about curfew and camp regulations, but I'm not paying any attention to her. My gaze falls upon three teenagers sitting under a tree a meter or two from the campfire to my right; they're looking at me. Two boys and a girl, all of them about my age, maybe older. I tilt my head slightly to the left and pretend to look at something else. I look back after a few seconds and find them still staring at me. Pretty soon it's a stare-off. A silent stare-off in a bustling area full of loud adults and teens alike.

I notice the girl trying to hold in a smile. After a couple of minutes, the girl gives up, throwing her head back and bursts out laughing. One of the boys grins then joins her. Pretty soon, it becomes a laughter chain, spreading to the adults at the training area to the people by the camp's lake.

I give the trio a small smile, not that they notice, or so I thought. The boy who didn't join in the laughter chain is still looking at me, a genuine smile on his face.

I raise both my eyebrows at him in surprise and give out a small laugh, more of a nervous chuckle really, not that it matters.

Let me just say this: He's pretty cute, which is a pleasant surprise in a time as depressing as this. I never planned on hooking up with anyone, or more importantly falling for anyone in the first place. I may sound guilty for saying this, but yes, I did find Andy pretty attractive, despite his being my best friend and like a brother to me. This boy makes me want to like someone all over again, to feel like a normal American teenager again.

His mahogany brown hair is the first thing I manage to pick up from him, short cropped but messy, with side bangs swept towards the right side of his head. His gray eyes are a gentle shade of gray, not the sort that's piercing and stares right into your soul, but the feature that stands out the most is his smile. It could light up the whole world for all I know, and we need that kind of light in a world like this. I do know that he's somehow lit up my heart, which sounds pretty cheesy coming from me. This guy is super-hot and I just can't stop looking at him.

I snap back to reality when Marlene calls my name. "Melanie, since you and Tommy are pretty new to camp, I'm gonna assign you both with someone to accompany you around camp for about a couple of weeks. It's kind of like the student buddy system in high school. You don't mind who I choose, right?"

"Huh? Oh no, I don't mind." I reply. Truth is, I really want.. 'him' to be my camp buddy. How embarrassing. I don't even know his name. Hopefully, if I don't get him as a guide, I'll at least get one of the other two sitting with him.

Marlene briefly browses around camp before calling out "Haley! Get over here!"

The girl from the trio, Haley, looks at Marlene in surprise and walks over to us sheepishly. I see the other boy snickering, as if she's about to get in trouble or something.

"Alright then. Hope you don't mind me asking you to do this, but could you take Melanie over here around camp for the next couple of weeks? Do it as a favor for me, if you don't mind. Guide her around, introduce her to the others, the usual for the newbies. That okay, Haley?" Marlene asks, with a touch of hope in her voice. She must've seen me laughing at their direction to pick out Haley. I'm grateful.

Smiling brightly at me, Haley says, "It's cool, Marlene. It'd be nice to have her as a member of our group."

Sighing with relief, Marlene bids farewell to me as she strolls off with Uncle Tommy. I silently wave goodbye to him before walking towards the boys with Haley.

We stop midway as she turns towards, introducing herself. "Hey, there! Since the ‘Queen’ already introduced me to you, I'm sure you already know my name, but for the sake of this conversation, name's Haley. Haley Grace." She's a ginger with shoulder length hair. Her hair, parted down the middle, covers her right blue eye, exposing her left. A bobby pin is the only thing keeping her hair in place on her left side.

Pointing back at the boys with her thumb, she continues, "I've been here for about a year now, and I've only got Tony and Logan there for company half the time. Yay for me. I totally know how to make friends." She ends her introduction with a sarcastic round of applause for herself. I like her already! She's got the same lame and sarcastic humor that I've got!

"Miller. Melanie Miller. Uh, I've been on the road with my Da- Uncle for the past three years. We haven't exactly done much all this time really, other than killing Infected and eating canned peaches." I tell Haley hesitantly. She cracks a huge grin and chuckles the moment I mention the canned peaches.

"Alrighty then, newbie. Should I call you Melanie, Mel, or Miller? Oh wait! How about MM? Yeah! It actually has quite a nice ring to it." Haley exclaims, placing a hand on her chin. Before I know it, I crack up. It's nice having someone with the same sense of humor as you, it's easily relatable.

After taking several deep breaths, I finally say, "I'm fine with Melanie or Mel. Don't call me Miller or MM. It's like calling you by a dog name instead of your own."

Putting her arm across my shoulder, she drags me over to their tree, putting my half a meter across from the boys. "Well, this is us. Let's get to the intros while I pick up our dinner, shall we?"

For once in a really long time, I finally feel like I belong.


	8. Socially Awkward, but Getting There

The comforts of this world were torn away from me, like taking a shard of glass out of human flesh. Lying in Cabin 5 on a real bed, with a real mattress, a real blanket and a real pillow, is all like a dream to me. I haven't slept so peacefully in ages; like a rock. Just pitch black, eyes shut, and snoring. No flashbacks, dreams or nightmares. A feeling of peace sweeps over me as I sit up in my bed. Looking around, I notice only a couple of people are asleep, the rest of them are tidying up and making their beds. I follow their example and do the same.

Just as I tuck my blanket into the bed, I feel a gentle tapping on my left shoulder. I turn to find Haley with a notebook in hand along with a faded box of pencils. A smile slowly spreads across my face when I realize what it is: A welcoming gift. I take it from her gratefully and thank her. She grins and plops herself onto my just made bed and lies down on it before asking, "So Melanie, how'd you find last night, sleep-wise I mean?"

**About 7 hours ago** **…**

I feel awkward in this mish-mash of people. Teens and adults surround me, all having fun and stumbling over each other around the now large, bonfire. I lace my fingers together, cupping my now cold, canned spaghetti. Staring down at it, I mutter quietly, "Why do I even bother? I don't belong here" before getting up and walking towards the nearby tree where I met my trio of.. 'acquaintances'.

They're not my friends just yet. I mean, I've only just met them half an hour ago. Besides, I don't even know what they _think_ of me. They probably think of me as some quiet and arrogant brat who thinks she can take care of herself. I think of myself that way sometimes, not that these thoughts aren't necessarily accurate. I left Dad in the woods alone, with a couple of broken ribs. I yelled at him for trying to protect me. I was selfish at the time; in fact, I still am. What kind of sick person would want to be friends with someone like me at all?

I find a hollow log that’s slightly larger than a shoe-box leaning horizontally across the tree. I pick it up and shake it out a bit to make sure there aren't any ants left over living inside. I sit down on it comfortably, acting as if it were a lounge chair. Laughter, crackling firewood, chirping crickets, silent wind, and my breathing are the only things I can hear through the night. Sighing dejectedly, I start picking at my spaghetti with the plastic spork the Fireflies provided me with for eating. "This is new." I say quietly to myself. "It feels.. lonely. So much for doing this together." I conclude, snorting.

Uncle Tommy made this deal with me so that we could do it like family rather than as allies or just colleagues. I don't see him here keeping me company, or anywhere for that matter. I bet it's got something to do with Marlene. I smile a little at the thought. Uncle Tommy and Marlene? Family man and rebel leader? What a weird combo. But it's Uncle Tommy's choice; if he's happy, I'm completely fine with it.

Loud footsteps approach me, along with the huff-and-puff of a jogger. "Hey! Didn't see you there!" It's Haley. Looking up at her, I see her carrying not one, but two cans of our rationed canned spaghetti.

"Had to argue with the 'cook' to get extra. I thought I told you to get to know the two dorks while I got the food?" Haley asks me questioningly, one of her ginger eyebrows raised in curiosity.

I remember now. That was about half an hour ago. The moment Haley let my shoulder go and headed towards the Mess Hall for our dinner, I chickened out and walked off right away. I didn't want to face "Gray Eyes" on my own. I was afraid I'd get flustered and stop talking all together.

So I spent that half an hour exploring camp, eventually going to the Mess Hall to pick up my dinner, and avoiding Haley's gaze as best I could. Judging by the look on her face, I'm guessing she caught me walking out of the Mess Hall, without "Gray Eyes" and his friend. I look away immediately, trying to hide the blush showing on my cheeks. I pray that it's dark enough to conceal it.

Giggling, she simply says to me, "I'm guessing you didn't want to meet Logan without me, huh?"

So _THAT'S_ his name. Logan. First, attractive features, now, a hottie's name, too? I turn to face Haley, this time at eye-level, since she used my recovery period to sit next to me beside the hollow log. Placing my free hand on the back of my neck, I try coming up with a lame excuse as to why I didn't greet Logan and.. ‘the other one’. God, I'm AWFUL at remembering names.

Haley just shakes her head, with a pitiful smile glued to her face, and tells me, "Dude, listen. I hate to break it to you, but Logan looks at every new girl the same way he looked at you." My heart sinks into my stomach in a matter of seconds. A player. That's the _LAST_ thing I wanted him to be, and yet, I'm gonna have to deal with that. I recover from it almost as soon as I got depressed by it.

"I didn't come here looking for a boyfriend, you know that, right?" I say to Haley after stuffing one sporkful of my cold, canned pasta.

After giving a small laugh, she responds, full of expression, "Jesus. Wow. That's new. Pretty much all the other girls that've come by are always asking me for the 'Tell-Me-About-Logan-Talk' even after giving them that heart wrenching news. That's the part when I tell them to just go away and find out for themselves. I congratulate you for not doing so, Miller!" Her voice suddenly filled up with pride at the last bit.

I shrug and simply say, "It's the truth, though. I came here to make friends and fight for the hope Marlene promised us. Isn't that why you're here?" I ask her out of sudden curiosity.

She snorts and shovels all the contents of one of her cans down throat. She's probably gonna puke it all back up after we finish talking. "Please, do excuse my pig-like manners, and I'll excuse your sudden topic change. You've got two choices for this conversation, and you've somehow managed to avoid discussing the first. I'll move on to why I came to the Fireflies for your sake, okay?"

Gratefully, I give out a sigh of relief and nod my head for a bit.

"Fine then. You want me to be completely honest with you?" Haley asks me, silently in a serious voice.

I frown at her in confusion and lamely reply, "Well, yeah."

"I don’t give a damn about these Fireflies."

My mouth hangs open in surprise for half a second. Wait.. What?

"Hang on. You joined the Fireflies, but you don't care about them, anyways? What the hell was the point in coming here for you, then?" I ask her in utter shock.

She gives off a long sigh of melancholy and explains, "Anymore. I don't give a damn about them anymore. I came here for the same reasons as you last year. I came here with my little brother. Just a year younger than me. Was, at least."

"Was..?"

Nodding, she continues, "We worked real hard for Marlene. For the leaders. Most of the people here are just innocents, in case you haven't noticed. Only a few of us are actual Fireflies."

Funny. I didn't seem to notice that there were only a few wearing Firefly uniforms. I ask her quickly, "Why come here if they aren't joining?"

"Food. Protection. Why else? These people are hopeless without us. They can't fend for themselves the way we can."

"Hang on. If the majority of us aren't Fireflies, exactly how many of us actually are Fireflies?"

"2 dozen. 4 teens, including you now, the rest are just grown-ups." Haley answers with a bored tone in her voice.

 _2 DOZEN_?! That's barely the number I was picturing in my head! I was expecting a lot more than this! I want to scream my head off in frustration because of how little there are of us, but instead I just reply sadly, "Well, we're dead, aren't we?"

She replies immediately, scoffing, "You don’t say." Suddenly, her eyes widen as she shoots me a look. "Oi. You keep interrupting me."

I give her a sheepish grin apologetically in response.

"Jesus. It's like you don't want me to be telling you all the stuff I've got to say."

I place my can beside our log and lean into the tree, crossing my arms over my chest. "I don't mean to. It's just- It's been a while, since I've talked to someone my age, you know?" I tell her, dejectedly.

Haley looks at me like I'm a kicked puppy. "Wow. These past 3 years must've been pretty lonely and boring for you, huh?"

This time, it's my turn to glare at her. She just laughs it off. I wish I was still like that. I've become a cold sociopath in the years of me not socializing; but one thing hasn't changed: I still suck at making friends. Who in the right mind would want to be friends with _me_ , anyways?

Haley just shakes her head at me and playfully punches my shoulder, "Listen, man. If you're gonna be all mopey the whole time you're here, you might as well do it when I'm not around. I'm just gonna try to keep on bugging you till you turn that frown of yours upside down."

Haley. Bless her. She thinks I'm worthy of being her friend. I lace my fingers together and place my hands at the back of my head.

I stare up at the sky and try to count the stars. Strange. I never thought there'd be so many. The crescent shaped moon's light gleams and shines its light all over the lake, reflecting it back at us. I only just noticed the few canoes lying by the dock of the lake. Stained with age, but in not too bad shape. I don't know how to respond. I take a sudden interest in my worn-out sneakers and give her a small smile in gratitude. A long silence fills the air, allowing us to listen to the small waves from the calm lake and the chirping of the crickets nearby.

"You know what? I always forget to ask the people I meet this question. What's a hobby of yours that you still wanna do, but can't?" she asks suddenly.

I guess she's not really used to silence; she's pretty loud and social, so I guess it does make sense.

This question catches me off-guard. I used to have a lot of hobbies. Gaming was definitely a staple for me, and so was drawing. And soccer. It's been 3 years since I've done any of them really, so what's the point in telling her? But I do anyways.

"I had 5 main ones, but my favorite was probably playing on my  _PS3_ , there's no power anymore, so I'm not exactly sure how I can play on it at all. I loved doodling and drawing, too. I drew all kinds of stuff, but thing is, I can't seem to find any notebooks or drawing paper or anything, really. Soccer was fun for me but I was awful at it, same case for skateboarding, but it was fun for me since my 'teachers' were super close to me." My 'teachers' were Sarah and Andy. I suddenly feel an ache in my chest. I miss them so much. Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I shut my eyes, trying to hold in a sob so that I don't end up bursting to tears. I can't take this anymore. If Haley keeps on asking me about my life before all this, I probably  _WILL_  end up bursting into tears.

"Listen. I'm pooped from walking all day. D'you mind taking me to my cabin?" I ask her quietly.

She just giggles and props me up on my shoulders. I pick up my backpack and heft it over my shoulders as I get up, waiting for Haley to do the same. Once she does, she asks me, "Before that, can I finish your pasta?" Typical 'eats-your-food' best friend. I guess she and I are friends now.

I guess..


	9. Gray

"So Melanie, how'd you find last night, sleep-wise I mean?" Haley asks me as she plops herself onto my bed.

I crouch onto the floor to unzip my bag and put my gifts inside. I take out my plastic foldable travel comb and one of my hairbands from my outer pocket as I zip it shut. Yup, I've always been the go-to when it came to things like this. I didn't even realize I had my comb in the outer pocket up until a year and a half ago. I only just learnt that my watch was in my bottle holder compartment 2 weeks ago.

"Well.. I guess you could say I slept like a rock. Literally." I tell her as I start to brush along my hair, trying to keep all the hair I can in my ponytail, leaving my bangs hanging beside my eyes.

Haley props herself up on her elbows. "So, you didn't mind sleeping in your clothes at all?"

I frown at that. "What sort of question _is_ that? Obviously! I'm not gonna be sleeping _NAKED_ if that's what you're thinking!"

She bursts out laughing and falls over on my bed, covering her face with her hand. What I said was lame, like REALLY lame; why's she laughing so hard at it though?

The other girls in Cabin 5 shake their heads, smiling. Then they all walk out for breakfast.

I just form my lips into a straight line, and sigh a little as I sit on the bed to my left. I wait for Haley to stop laughing, which takes a while too.

Haley finally comes to, but she's out of breath. "Wow. I haven't laughed like that in a while. Jesus, Melanie! I didn't mean it THAT way! I meant the clothes that you're wearing right now, whether you're comfortable wearing them or not."

I squint at her as if she tried speaking to me in Japanese. "Well, obviously I don't mind. I wouldn't be wearing this otherwise." I say, tugging at the hood of my jacket.

Frustratedly, she sighs and leaves the cabin. Just like that, she walked off. I flush a deep red in embarrassment. "Holy shit. Does everything I say make people uncomfortable?"

Haley returns carrying a cardboard box, torn and worn out, but a cardboard box all the same. It must be heavy since I can see how tensed the muscles in her arms are. I continue watching her, confused.

I hear her grunting as she approaches me, "Hello? A little help here?"

I mutter a quick apology before helping her place the box on my bed. Haley takes out a cardboard knife and carefully slices through the tape of the sealed box. Opening it, I see what she was carrying: Clothes. Fresh and clean ones. I gasp a little at that.

One by one, I take each one out of the box, unfolding each clothing item and then holding it in front of me to see what it is. I continue for a good five minutes. By the time I'm done, I take note of my new clothes: 1 pale yellow hooded jacket, 5 dark grey T-shirts, 2 pairs of sand colored army pants, 2 pairs of black track pants, and 1 pair of olive green 3-quarter shorts. I'm also given equipment: a gray pouch, and dark brown tool belt with a ton of pockets, 2 adjustable Firefly armbands, a pair of fingerless gloves, and combat boots. I'm able to find a box of 9mm ammo as well in the box. All this equipment must've been what's so heavy.

Haley looks at me with a bored expression and tells me as she walks out, "Get changed. Breakfast is already being served. No need for the jacket and gloves. Wear just the pants and gray shirt. I'll see you outside."

**HALEY'S POV**

I head for the porch steps and let all of my weight drag me down to the wooden floor. I hug my knees to my chest and watch the scene in front of me. It's nice and quiet out here since everyone's gone to the Mess Hall. I can only hear the creaking of floorboards under me as I move my butt around to get comfy.

Poor Melanie. She doesn't even stand a chance with Mr. Hot-Head. She doesn't really seem fazed by it, though. I grin a little at that. Every girl that catches sight of Logan always ends up in the infirmary. It's just plain pathetic, especially since all of them think they're still in high school. Well, technically, we still ARE in high school, but forget that logic. We're survivors. We aren’t supposed to think like that anymore.

I wonder how long Mel plans on staying. I'm leaving first chance I get, especially after what happened to Jared. They left him to die, to get taken by those Hunters, and there was nothing I could do about it. I could kill Marlene, but where would that get me? I'd just end up as dead as Jared. There’s no satisfaction in killing.

I notice people heading for their morning assignments. Why the hell are those man sluts carrying their load with no shirts on? Are they seriously trying to impress us or what? Talk about lame. Ugh, God knows what we'll be assigned today. Mel's gonna have to come with me since she's the noob. Hang on, speaking of Mel, where is she? She was supposed to be here a while ago. Oh no. Breakfast is FINISHED.

I stagger on all fours and slam the door open. What the HELL is she DOING?! She's drawing NOW?!

**MEL'S POV**

"WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK- WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MILLER?! WE'RE LATE! HURRY UP!" I hear someone screaming at me.

I whip my head up at look towards the direction of the scream. It's Haley. My eyes widen in fear as I drop the notebook and pencil onto the floor. Her face is bright red, and so is her neck. That scream must've taken up all the air left in her. She grabs the neck of my T-shirt with both her hands and brings me towards her face. "MILLER, I TOLD YOU TO GET CHANGED! WHAT’RE YOU STILL DOING HERE?!" Anger flaring in her intense sky blue eyes. Her mouth fixed into a raging scowl. I can't help but laugh at it.

She furrows her brow at me in confusion and pushes me back after letting go of my shirt.

"You look weird when you're mad. It's strange seeing you act like this." That's all I have to say to her as a response.

She scoffs at me and looks away. "I've never been late to breakfast. Or anything food related. Nobody takes my food away from me. Because we're late, now they won't give us any."

I'm about to offer her some of the canned fruit in my backpack, but I remember what Dad told Uncle Tommy, or us now, " _Whatever you find, you keep it for yourself. We're survivors; our needs come before others_."

"GOOD. You've already changed. Tuck your shirt in, they’re always talking about tidiness. Put on the strap-on pouch, and the boots too. Hurry up. We've got chores to do.." Haley says to me finally as she drags me out the door in a sprint. Everyone we pass stares at us blankly as we bump into them. Haley, being as blunt as ever, ignores them while I mutter quick apologies to each person.

We head over to the cabin next door, AKA the Supply Room, and enter. A girl a little older than us holding a clipboard stands beside mounds of supplies in the middle of the room. Ammo, cans of food, clothing, medicine, etc. all piled up in tons and tons of boxes, each one pleading to be organized.

I walk towards her with Haley in anticipation of our assigned task when I notice the fixed scowl on her face as she looks toward the opposite end of the room. She speaks in a low and dangerous voice, "Calvin, I haven't got all day. So I'll ask you again: Where are the meds you said you'd send to the Infirmary? It's been three hours and they still aren't there."

An attractive, tanned, beach worthy young man, presumably Calvin, appears from behind one of the tall stacks of boxes. "Anna. Calm down. I can't help it if these boxes aren't getting arranged. These kids are always coming late so I can't do anything until- _THERE_ YOU ARE! You’re late! Get over here and hurry up already!" Calvin says he turns towards our direction. We walk towards them sheepishly. I can feel ‘Anna’s’ gaze burning into my flesh, infuriated at how late we are.

"Do you guys ever arrive on time? You're always leaving me hanging over here to do this all on my own! I mean, have you _SEEN_ how much stuff I've got to pile up in this room?" Calvin says to us, his dark blue eyes leering at us in frustration. He seems almost like a _diva, especially_ after he throws his hands up to be extra dramatic. I’ll call Calvin Mr. Fabulous from now on.

Weirdly enough, he reminds of a love child of Luke Hemmings from 5 Seconds of Summer and Tyler Oakley.

Probably just me.

Haley pats his shoulder gently and tries to make up an excuse when we hear the door being opened. A deep voice enters my line of hearing, and I immediately turn around like everyone else in the room.

"Cal, the barracks are requesting more ammo."

"I'm well aware of that, thanks, Logan. AUGH! OMG, there’s just so much to sort out!" says Calvin as he pushes his sky blue hair.

"The meds.."

"Shut _up_ , Anna! You’re stressing me out here!" He starts fiddling with the piercing on his bottom lip.

"Ladies, just calm down a second."

"Logan, you keep your pretty boy mouth _SHUT_." Anna counters.

Haley and I just stand there awkwardly, waiting for the argument to end. Logan walks out of the argument and heads for my direction. I try to breathe normally as he approaches us. He puts down the box he was holding and takes out a can of fruit cocktail. He hands it to me and says, "Hey. Didn't see you at breakfast, so I saved one for you." A small smile concludes his greeting.

"Uh. Thank you." I manage to say to him, without stuttering. BOOSH. Bonus.

"Heeeeyy.. How come you didn't get _me extra_ food? Logan! You've known me longer!" Haley says to him teasingly as she playfully punches his chest.

He gives her a soft chuckle and replies.

At first, I'm staring at his beautiful gray eyes. Next thing you know, my eyes begin trailing downward towards the midsection of his body, specifically his torso. Those abs of his sticking out from underneath his gray tank top. My eyes glance upwards some more, and focus on his arms. Dang, they're  _huge._  Is he always going to be this big of a distraction for me? I can't even hear what he's saying anymore. His closeness is making me really uncomfortable. I stare down at my shoes and breathe slowly from my mouth.

I look back up to find him staring right at me, grinning from ear to ear. I fake a cough and look away, flushed red in embarrassment. I catch a quick glance at Haley to find her giggling at my expense. I've turned into a tomato.

"Alright younglings, settle down." Calvin says to us. _Star Wars_ fan much? We all turn towards him. "We've got work to do.”

A voice calls out from the back of the room, a young man, coffee colored skin, with neatly combed hair and a neatly trimmed beard. “Cal, what’s taking so long? My break’s almost over. Anna, Logan, Haley.” No denying it, he’s got a handsome face.

“Charlie.” Logan replies to him, another genuine smile glued to his face. Anna gives him a double eyebrow raise while Haley smirks as she starts winking teasingly.

“Coming, babe!” Wait, what? _Babe.._? Oh. _OH_. Okay. Calvin and Charlie are.. Okay then. Two good looking guys totally MFEO (Made For Each Other). That’s good to know.

Calvin turns back towards us, scratching at the anchor tattoo on his left shoulder. “You know what? Why don't you guys help Anna here find her meds? She'll be _eternally_ grateful." He ‘ _skips’_ back to the other end of the room towards where Charlie is. She cringes at him and quickly mutters, "I hate kids."

Anna looks over at us with her emerald green eyes, both ginger eyebrows raised. "Whatever. Name's Anna Williams. I'll need your help sorting out all the meds you can find and putting it in this box over here. Okay? Get to work, lazy people."


	10. Boston

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that I was 14 when I wrote all this, so if the writing seems shitty at times, I apologize for that in advance! As always, enjoy!

**3 months later..**

It's always been like this. Logan doing the littlest of things to get me to form a smile on my face, me getting flustered over his sweet behavior, Haley laughing with Tony at my expense. We're a happy group of 4, despite my being uncomfortable about being teased.

The number of Fireflies has definitely increased, not as much as I'd hoped, but better than nothing; we've got about 30 of our guys now. That's one of the reasons why our crew doesn't have to go out that often anymore. Occasionally, we're sent out for supply raids, but other than that, we're living life surprisingly quite happily and peacefully here in Atlanta. Surprisingly enough, we've only come across Infected during the supply raids; then again, the 'bite-scratch' check-up with Anna in the Infirmary each week is one of the main reasons why we haven't had any Infected at camp. My crush on Logan's only gotten worse, but I'm happy though. Really happy.

**HALEY'S POV**

This wait is driving me insane. I can't stay here anymore. I see Jared's face every time I look at Marlene. It's like God is testing me, waiting for me to crack. I'm gonna end up killing someone if I stay for another week. God forbid, I don't wanna end up being responsible for the murder of my friends, but where am I gonna go? Who should I bring with me?

I take out my map of the USA from my satchel and lay it out in front of me on my bed in Cabin Four. Where can I go from here? I look at my available options and the ones closest to me. Birmingham, Montgomery, Columbus. Nope. They're all too nearby. I need to head out further. Huntsville, Nashville, Clarksville. Further. My eyes continue to wander around my A2 sized map. Lexington, Louisville- What about Indiana? About 500+ miles from here. Question is, who am I gonna bring?

I sure as hell ain't bringing Mel. She came with her Uncle, which means I'll have to bring her Uncle too, a package deal and the last thing I need right now. Logan needs to stay with her, take care of her; she's like a lost puppy. Bless him. That pretty boy with the heart of a saint. Hang on. What about Tony? He hasn't got any family here, plus he's good company. I'll go see if he's fine with going to Indiana with me. Alright, first thing tomorrow morning, I'll head for Indiana, and if Tony agrees, even better.

 

 

**MEL'S POV**

**A week later..**

Where the heck did she go? Haley was here this whole time, all of a sudden POOF! She vanishes. Tony's gone, too. Then again, why does it surprise me? This whole time, Haley's been telling me how much she hates the Fireflies, and here she is, leaving without even telling us. It kind of hurts really, I feel like her befriending me is what she does on a daily basis, like I'm just another obstacle in her 'super-interesting' life like everyone else, as if she never cared about any of us.

We've already asked Marlene for a search party. Dozens of times. It's not like she cared either, a pretty selfish move if you ask me; but who am I to judge? Marlene's been really busy with moving out of here to head for Boston. We all are, really. Besides, we've now got the numbers. 2 Fireflies out of over 30 Fireflies? Big deal, the numbers can make up for the loss. What's the point of me ranting over Haley now? She chose to leave. She's gone. There. Done. Finito.

At least I have Logan with me.

**After 2 weeks of packing..**

I'm gonna miss this place. The moonlight's shine reflecting against the lake's surface, and the view of camp from Cabin Five's porch steps. The sound of gravel gliding underneath the soles of my sneakers as I ran off to the Infirmary. Anna's look of loathing every time I'd show up late to the Supply Cabin. Our tree with the hollow log, where Logan first smiled at me. Everything about this place, really.

This is 3-4 month basis, though. Moving from area to area, city to city, state to state. The more often we move, the more Fireflies are recruited, but according to Marlene in our last squad meeting which was exactly 2 weeks ago, she said she'd be changing things up when we get to Boston. How or why, I have no idea. I guess she'll give us an explanation when we get there. The higher ranked guys get to ride the bus and army truck that we have while the rest of us who obviously won't fit inside will have to walk on foot. _YAY_. 1000+ miles on foot, we _totally_ won't be getting any blisters. Luckily, the clan members (the non-Fireflies) are leaving; let's just say they were politely evicted of their accommodation since they're no help to us in any way at all, which means more space for us, I guess.

Here we go then, I guess.

**After 500+ miles..**

I've lost track of the days. But why does it even matter? All of us managed fit into the vehicles, SHOCKING. I know. There are barely any of us anyways, so what difference does it make?

We've had a couple of rest stops so far, mostly to scavenge the empty convenience stores and gas stations we've passed by. The volume of the chatter here is ridiculously loud, everyone's excited to be heading out, I suppose.

I was a late comer on the bus, no surprise, and all the seats had been filled, EXCEPT for the one next to Logan. ( _Totally_ coincidental.)The moment I stepped foot beside his double seat, he picked up his backpack and rested it on his lap, giving me smirk and both eyebrows raised.

I pull my beanie further over my head in an attempt to block out the noise, covering my eyes halfway along the way. Nope. Not helping. The wool's softness does feel nice though. No denying that. I cross my arms over my chest and droop my head, trying to make myself fall asleep. This feels even worse; my neck is killing me now. I shift to the right and half-sit half-lean into the worn out back of the bus seat. I feel like I'm going to fall off.

I shift to the right and try to lean on the side of the seat by the time Logan notices what I'm doing. I don't realize it since I'm staring at the front pockets of his brown vest. I look up and try to look at his side profile. I end up widening my eyes in surprise to find him staring at me. Maybe he's annoyed with the amount of movement on our seat. I open my mouth to try and make up a lame excuse for my constant movement, but instead I feel my beanie being tugged down by Logan's left hand even more until the top of my nose. The wool makes my eyes feel itchy and I can't really see much of anything. I have to squint through the beanie's tiny holes to be able to make out the shape of his face. I feel the warmth of his right hand come in contact my cold left cheek. "Logan, what're you-?" I'm cut off by his lips. I'm appalled at how soft they are against mine. My heart starts racing at a million miles per hour. He pulls back to look at my reaction. WHOA. Logan Ross just kissed me. For NO REASON WHATSOEVER.

My beanie is pulled up gently by Logan, allowing me to see his killer smile. I don't think you'd even need to be in Logan's position to see how flushed I am. I've gone red from head to toe. Ears, neck, everything. We have a stare-off again, similar to the one when we first met, except this time his face is just millimeters away from mine.

I stop staring and take a sudden interest in the design of the bus seat. It's barely a whisper, but I hear him, his warm breath tickling my left ear, "If you're sleepy, you can lean into me." I raise my eyebrows at him, and smirk a little.

"That's why you kissed me?"

"Huh?" He's in denial.

I snort, and burst out laughing. It sounds forced, but that's the point. Making Logan feel awkward will be like getting the antlers of a deer after a successful hunt. He's always so relaxed around everyone; I find it a little irritating that he doesn't seem to be fazed by anything. He kissed me so that I wouldn't feel uncomfortable if I leaned into him. Typical Logan; always trying to make things convenient for everyone.

He wraps his arm around me and I nuzzle my head against one of his broad shoulders. This feels so comfortable, almost like home, in fact. "Better now?" he whispers to me.

My eyes start to get heavy and my breathing gets deeper. I say it very faintly, I do. "Better."

**10-15 miles till Boston..**

"What's going on?"

"Gather around everyone." It's Marlene.

We're all surrounding Marlene and her right hand guys like a pack of wolves. I notice Uncle Tommy is beside her. The crowdedness of this situation makes me feel claustrophobic, as if I'm stuck in a mosh pit. I start to have a mini panic attack, looking like a toddler searching for his mom in the mall during the weekend. I feel a firm hand around my right forearm, causing me to look towards the owner of the arm. Logan. I sigh in relief and shuffle through the crowd towards him, slipping his hand into mine when I get there. I feel safe now. Always have around Logan, and I always will be.

"Alright, folks. Settle down! She's tryin' talk! Guys!" I hear Uncle Tommy yelling. The crowd finally simmers down and lets Marlene speak.

"Okay. So... Things are gonna be changing around here. We can't have all of you staying here with us, cooped up in one place. I know it's stupid to be dividing up since there's strength in numbers, but we need more Fireflies joining us. Not everyone will be able to get to Boston because of the distance, you know?" Marlene says to us, hesitantly.

Murmurs of disapproval start to spread around us, nobody's happy about it, at all. I look over at Uncle Tommy, who gives me a tired but reassuring smile. Oh God. Is he going to be leading the other half? I thought we were in this together! This is ridiculous! Why would they be separating us when they know for a fact that we'll be dead whenever we lack the numbers - which we currently are - I notice Uncle Tommy whispering to Marlene and her two other guys. Judging by the slow nods, I'm guessing they approve of the plan he's suggested.

"Folks!" Uncle Tommy calls to us. "Forget what Marlene said! Just a slight change though: If you don't want to be with us anymore, you can still come with us, but once we're a few meters from Boston's gates, those of you who're splitting up head straight for the entrance. We clear? Raise your right hand up and yell 'AYE' if you agree!"

In chorus, we all yell, "AYE!" pumping our fists in the air as if we're at a rock concert.

**Exactly 2 miles till Boston..**

"I've changed my mind."

"Huh?" The look Logan gives me is incredulous. Complete and utter shock. Betrayal and anger. I don't know. I can't tell.

I lean forward and press my forehead against the back of the seat in front me, trying to get Logan's gaze to stop burning into me.

"Why so suddenly?"

"I don't wanna do this anymore."

Logan lets out a big puff of air from his mouth and sits upright against our double seat. He starts to chew on the corner of his bottom lip when he asks me, "Any particular reason?"

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. I exhale loudly through my nose. I lick my lips hesitantly before I give him my explanation. "I thought I'd have something to look forward to if I came here. I thought that Uncle Tommy and I could spend more time together, as a family." I place my elbows on my knees and let my head fall into my hands. "He's the only family I've got now, but I guess it's my fault. I left my dad to die of his injuries in an old cabin. We didn't leave him anything other than his godforsaken backpack which probably has nothing in it. I don't deserve this treatment from you, Logan. I'm a horrible person. My dad asked me for forgiveness and I refused his apology without missing a beat. I hit him in his ribs with a baseball bat after he attacked Uncle Tommy. I had to do something! I couldn't just stand there watching it happen! Uncle Tommy would probably be beat half to death if I hadn't hit him! I didn't have a choice!"

I realize I'm sobbing as I continue to ramble on about how much regret I've been carrying with me over the past few months. I tell him everything. About Sarah, about Andy. The crash, the day the Cordyceps hit. When Sarah got shot. I start to sound like a moose giving birth - which I frankly have no idea what it sounds like - when I feel Logan's strong arms wrap around my petite figure, pulling me into him. I feel his chin resting on the top of my head as I continue to sob. My tears have made my cheeks slippery, making it impossible for me to bury my face into Logan's vest. I can feel how gentle his hands are, stroking the back of my neck to comfort me.

Eventually, I pass out.

 

**A few meters from the gate..**

"Who's leaving?" Gary asks us once we all hop off of the bus. We've parked ourselves behind an RV, making it impossible for the soldiers guarding the gate to see us. I find Logan's hand as we exit the group, walking towards Uncle Tommy and Marlene.

"We're leaving." Logan says on our behalf.

Marlene's and Uncle Tommy's eyes widen in surprise. "You two?" They say almost in sync.

I nod politely, giving Uncle Tommy a small smile. The sadness in his eyes is evident, almost trying to reach out for me, trying to convince me to stay.

"I'm leaving too."

We turn towards the sound of the voice. Anna?!

"Mark, you coming or not?"

"Yeah, yeah.." MARK. Anna is hooked up with MARK, of all people?! She deserves better than that douche bag!

I take note of Marlene's clenched fists when she sees Anna joining us. "Anna, you can't just go. We need you." A tone of desperation lingers on in her voice, an octave higher than usual when she's upset; trust me, she's got a deep voice for someone that's a little older than me.

"Marlene, you can stop by and see us anytime! Really! We'll be fine! And so will you! You'll find us in some rinky dink apartment in the city if you need anything! Isn't that right, Melanie?"

I can't hear a thing she's saying. I just see her giving me a pointed look and that her mouth is moving. Is she calling me? "What?" Logan gently elbows me, one of his sneaky smirks glued onto his beautiful face. "Yeah.. What she said." I mutter quietly and uncertainly. One of the few times I space out, I end up putting myself in an awkward situation. Oh, the joy of it all.

Mark starts to scratch his stubbly beard in frustration, making this irritating sound that sounds similar to the one that comes from raking leaves in your backyard. Anna looks down on the ground and works her jaw. "Listen Marlene, point is we want out. It's all good. Okay?"

**About half an hour later..**

Marlene FINALLY gave in; I can see why Anna and Mark are hooked up. They're just as persistent and stubborn as the other. Note to self: Similarities do attract as much as opposites.

Logan lets me have a minute with Uncle Tommy alone. I slowly walk over to him, with my arms crossed over my chest and my lips pursed. My mouth goes dry all of a sudden by the time I'm about a meter away from him. I stare at him and look away; the sad look on his face is contagious. "Why the sudden change of heart, Mel?"

"You said we'd do this together. You didn't keep your promise."

His mouth hangs open, shocked at my reason and shocked at my decision. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, taking a sudden interest in the tiny cracks in the road.

"Did you sign up just because of Marle-" I start.

"No! Well, maybe. I mean, I don't know.."

I snort and bitterly give him my reply, "You and your excuses. Honestly, Uncle Tommy. Keep this up and you'll eventually turn into Dad."

I see the wince on his face when I finish. I'm a bitter and unforgiving person. Get used to it.

"Whatever. I'm over it. I've got Logan now." A long-ish silence hangs in the air. "So, what now?"

"I don't know. We'll see. If I stay, I'll stay. If I don't, I don't."

"Let me know if you do?" I ask him.

He gives me his winning smile, the kind that always manages to make me smile, no matter how bad things are. "Sure thing. C'mere."

I half-skip half-jog over to him. Bear hugs were one of the few things I'd always look forward to when seeing Uncle Tommy. Seeing this might be my last time..

He releases me and puts a hand on my head, ruffling my hair. "Stay safe, kiddo. I'll miss you." He gives me a peck on my forehead.

"And me, you."


	11. Long Time No See

"You want me to _WHAT_?!" I ask Uncle Tommy incredulously. I've been asked to hand over all my gear the Fireflies have given me, along with my backpack. The gear is understandable, but my bag too?! "You have no right! You're not gonna friggin' take my bag too! I won't let you!" I yell at him angrily.

Uncle Tommy uses both of his hands to comb through his long mahogany brown hair. "Melanie. Calm down. We'll give your stuff back the next time we meet up. It's as simple as that. Okay?"

I snort at his reply, shortly after shaking my head at him in disapproval. "She's trying to get back at me, isn't she? She wants to steal our stuff and then ditch us to rot in the city, is that it?"

"Mel, it ain't like that."

" _Sure_ it ain't."

"You really are as stubborn as your dad, ain't ya?"

"Don't try bringing Dad into this. This is about Marlene and her crew. It ain't fair that-"

"We're taking  _all_  your bags."

"IT'S NOT  _FAIR_." I tell him, like a pouting child asking his mum for a coin to use a gumball machine. I can literally hear the eye rolls of the other Fireflies standing nearby.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Melanie! We're just taking your stuff so that the soldiers up front don't confiscate it when you get past those gates!" Uncle Tommy points out.

We've been going on like this for about as long Anna and Marlene were, when they argued about leaving. Now, it's about my lack of patience for the Fireflies' wanting to take our packs.

"You're taking away my jackets and vests. Now my own bag, too? All my stuff is in there; my beanie, my guns, my ammo, and Sarah-!" My voice makes a screeching sound when I mention Sarah's name.

Uncle Tommy grabs me by my shoulders and asks, " _MELANIE_. How much do you trust them?"

I don't know how to respond to that, so I stay quiet.

"Exactly. It's 'cause you  _don't_.  _FEDRA's_ the one that's supposed protect us, and look at what they're doing. No, wait. Look at what they've done. It's because of them that our lives have been ruined. Look at you! Look at what these people have turned all of us into! We're all bitter, we're all selfish. They couldn't take all of us in, so they left the rest of these people to die in the open, exposed to the Infected, including us. And seeing that you're willing to give up your supplies and your identity to them, is just plain wrong. Do you even think that for one second that Sarah would agree to this?"

I hang my head real low and try to hold in every swear word I can think of to say to Uncle Tommy. I clench both of my fists, as tightly and as hard as a possible, I guess it  _is_  a good enough method for staying patient. "Stop bringing them up, Uncle Tommy. Please." I say silently to him. The pain I can feel in my gut is excruciating. If someone were to ask me what the difference was between the two most important people in my life was, I'd tell them the difference immediately: I could've saved one of them, but I chose not to. I can practically hear the cringe on his face after my request. A long but brief period of silence follows.

"Okay. I'll hand over my bag. Can you just.. make sure they don't take anything?"

He claps my left shoulder and gives me a half smile.

**15 minutes later..**

"Hands in the air!" One of the soldiers on guard at the gates yells at us. All the soldiers on the gates' towers hear him and as if rehearsed –which it probably was – the remaining soldiers aim their assault rifles down at us, locked and loaded.

Thank God we've all got spare clothes, not the cleanest or the best quality of the bundle, but spare clothes nonetheless. We have the appearance of civilians living on the road, looking for a better life in the Boston Quarantine Zone – which we are, anyways. All we have to do is pray to God a lot more than we usually do so that they don't ask to check our pockets for anything suspicious or related to 'criminal activity' AKA our old Firefly dog tags.

But... hang on. I don't think soldiers will even  _know_  who the Fireflies are at all. They  _did_  come to spread the message across the USA after all. This might be their last stop, hoping to get more people joining in, from both inside and outside the QZ. All I can hope for is that Uncle Tommy doesn't get killed in the process, what I'm hoping for even more is that he leaves all together. I don't want him getting arrested or court martialed just because he decided to chase some stupid dream.

We all raise our hands above our heads, without a moment's hesitation. "Calm down, ladies. We just wanna enter the city is all. Nothing to be worried about." Logan starts off, with the most charming smile that he can put on his face. He's awfully calm right now, but then again, when is he  _not_?

One of them gets _really_ annoyed by his attitude and steps forward, "What did you call us, pretty boy?!"

"Damn it." Mark mutters. A thud and a quick "OW!" also come from Mark. I snort when I realize that Anna punched him, hard.

"Marcus! Stop thinking so negatively! Now shut your mouth before I shut it for you!" Anna hisses at him. MARCUS. I stifle a laugh when I hear her say it. Dear God, this just keeps getting better and better.

"Gentlemen! Um... Y'all are looking fantastic in this fine morning. How are you doing?" I attempt to throw playful banter at them to pull them off of Logan's back. Besides, if it comes from a girl, it technically counts as.. flirting..? Honestly, I don't even know. Might as well give it a try..

"What say you to let us in so that we can all quickly progress with life and such? Savvy?" I say this to them in my best singsong voice, batting my eyelids at them in the process. The looks I receive from everyone are priceless. If only I had a camera, which I sadly don't. Pretending to act like a frilly little school girl in the middle of a zombie apocalypse will surely win us over some pity.

"Dude, this day just keeps getting weirder and weirder. Are we even getting paid enough for this?" one of the soldiers asks, loudly enough for all of us to hear. Even if they didn't mean for us to, we'd still hear it since they're right above us.

Rolling her emerald green eyes in annoyance, Anna hollers up to them, "Yo! We're not deaf, you know! Still here!"

They ignore her and continue to discuss whether to let us inside the Boston QZ or not. After a couple of minutes, one of them asks us at last, "Is it just you four?"

We nod indignantly.  _Technically_  speaking, it's just us..

"Alrighty then. Boys! Open up the gates, let 'em in! We can't just leave y'all out there."

I gratefully mutter several thanks to God as the doors of the gates are pulled open, loudly creaking. "Man, they really need to oil this thing." I hear a soldier saying to us. "Welcome to Boston, civie."

I could only see Boston very briefly from outside the gates. Now that I really am in Boston, it's not quite as cooked up as they say it is. It's only been three years and the amount of security here is super tight. FEDRA must really be working hard over here compared to everywhere else. Let's see how long we'll manage to live here without causing  _too_  much trouble.

**3 years later...**

The sound of jingling keys and the door unlocking wakes me up. "I'm home." The sound of Logan's voice pulls me out of the darkness and back into reality.

I force myself to move my jelly-like limbs off of the rock hard couch I've been lying on. Ugh. God, I feel like crap. Then again, when do I not?

"Hi." I give him a quick peck on his bristly cheek by the time I get to him. "You're home early. Anyways, how was 'work'?"

He snorts before he replies. "Bad. I hate my job."

I roll my eyes at him, "Then why'd you sign up for it then, idiot?" I shoot back at him as I pull his navy blue cap off of his head.

"We aren't made of money, you know. And I don't hate it for the reason that you think."

"You meant the ration cards. It's not like we use them that much anyways, so why the big fuss?" I ask.

"I seem like 'the bad guy' every time I handle the crowds at the ration line. Every day, I have to deal with it, and the looks I get from these people are like a kick in the teeth for me. You know how much I hate being labelled. They think we're all the same. We're just doing our job! It's not our fault that they won't stop cutting in line and then pushing and shoving each other!"

I cup his face with both of my hands, coaxing his face towards mine, touching our foreheads together. His is warm and sticky from the sweat from work. I can feel him heavily exhaling from his nose. "And you're doing a great job of it. It isn't your fault that the crowd's acting like a bunch of jerks. You tried your best, and that's all that matters." I whisper to him reassuringly. "Besides, you've been doing this for what? 2-3 years now? Why start ranting now?"

Logan rubs the back of his neck as he tiredly walks over to the couch. He collapses on it as soon as he gets there. " _Hey_.. No fair. You took my spot." I whine at him.

He gives me a tired laugh and a smirk before giving me his answer. "Mel, I thought you hate this couch."

I make a duck face and look away, muttering excuses on my behalf.

"I'm especially tired today because I asked for an early leave." Early leave? What the hell for? "What's the date today, Melanie?"

I scrunch my nose and spend a minute thinking about it. "Darn it, I haven't been checking off the dates in my calendar again." I say to him, giving myself the hardest facepalm  _ever._

"September 22nd." OH. It's my birthday. How the hell could I forget?

"Oh."

Logan raises both eyebrows at me and says, "You sound surprised." He catches me off guard when he starts to mock me, "Oh my gosh, Logan! How could you, of all people, remember when  _I_ couldn't?" I stomp over to him with a stormy expression and give him the hardest punch that I can on his shoulder. "OW! You  _do_  hit like a girl!" Logan yelps, giving me a hearty laugh in the process.

"What's  _THAT_  supposed to mean? You, sexist-!"

"Mel, relax. I meant that as a good thing. Girls hit a lot harder than people say. Trust me, I know. Besides, I only have to worry about you hitting me now, and I have been for the past year." The smile he gives me melts my heart. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.

I smile at the wall, as I lean against the couch. He takes my hand into his and starts kissing it softly. I always feel so safe around Logan. "I still can't believe we actually got married last year." I add quietly.

"Well, believe it, then." I let out a laugh, for real this time. "Now we can use the saying: 'We're like an old married couple!' since it's official." Logan tells me, giving me the toothiest grin possible.

"Ugh.. We aren't that old." I declare to him outright. "We're college age kids, except for the fact that we don't go to college and that we're technically high school dropouts. Besides, I don't see how college can help us in this kind of situation. But wait. Where'd you get the rings from, anyways?" I ask suddenly out of interest.

"Mel, you do know there's this new thing called an abandoned jewelry store. Ever hear of one?"

"Shut up." I say to him, annoyed by his smarty pants attitude.

"Come on," he says to me as he strokes each of my fingers with his thumb, "we're headed for Anna and Mark's. We've got a mini celebration to get to."

**An hour later..**

"MM, you're such a kid! You're only 20?" Mark exclaims, roaring with laughter. The number of eye rolls he receives from Anna is unbelievable, I'm getting a headache just by looking at her; frankly, I'm surprised _she_ hasn't got one for rolling her eyes so much.

"Shut up! How many times have I told you to stop  _calling_  me that?! It's not my fault that I'm younger than all of you!" I screech at him.

"You guys, please. My head already hurts from the eye rolling," Anna counters, putting the back of her hand over her right eye, "So can we please just celebrate Mel's birthday in peace, thank you very much?"

Logan just lets out a laugh he's been stifling from the start, along with a pointed look at Anna which CLEARLY says, " _These two_.."

I stick out my bottom lip as Logan wraps his arm around me. I look around the room to find something else to talk about. My eyes widen in shock when I see Anna's belly.  _Is she..?! No.. She can't be.._ I think to myself.  _I'd better ask, otherwise I won't know_.. Anna catches my eye and asks what the matter is when she sees the look on my face.

"Umm.. How.. far along are you..?" I ask her hesitantly. Mark and Anna exchange looks and laugh when they turn towards us again

"You only notice now? Talk about clueless.." Mark adds with a cruel tone in his voice.

"There's no point in acting like a total jerk, you know that, Mark." Anna says, scolding him. "I'm due any day now, and the pressure is killing me."

I purse my lips and clench my fists on my lap. "It's just.." I try saying.

"What?"

"I thought you hated kids!" I blurt out.

Mark laughs nervously and adds, "Yeah, well. It couldn't be helped."

We spend the rest of our time there, communicating in glances and nervous bubbles of laughter.

**That night..**

"I could get a job, you know." I say quietly to the back of Logan's head.

Logan rolls over to his left side, facing me now. He makes no effort to brush away his mahogany brown bangs poking into his gentle gray eyes. I can't read the expression on his face. He's playing the poker face card now. "Why would you want that?" he whispers to me.

I sigh and put my right hand below my head. My eyes wander as I start observing the form of his collarbone and how broad his shoulders are. Only the right side of his face is glowing in the moonlight, I'm the one who insisted on sleeping under the window, after all. My stubbornness is getting the best of me; I don't even want to admit that I'm wrong, even after 3 years of the same argument.

"Admit it, you're bored home alone." I scoff in reply. "Fine. This means I win again." Logan says to me with a smirk.

I roll over again so that I can lie on my back to face the ceiling. It's like sleeping on a  _rock_  when you lie down on this bed, except this rock's got bed sheets and a couple of dank and super smelly pillows. Three words to describe this apartment: gray. Dull, boring, forced.

"Well, I don't want to be chastised for doing my job like you." If looks could kill, I'd be dead at the hands of Logan by now. "I wanna be respected for my job, you know?"

"There's newspaper delivery."

"Too boring. Besides, why would I wanna do that and how am I gonna get respect with  _THAT_?"

"It was just a suggestion, and it's not  _that_  bad." A brief pause follows. "What about smuggling?"

I turn my head briefly to look at Logan. "Smuggling." I repeat aloud. "As in, you want me to work with Robert? That rotten, slimy, lying son of a- We can't trust him!" I say, shaking my head at the ceiling.

"Mel-"

"No," I continue, propping myself on my elbows, "he snatched our packs away when we first got here, remember?  _THEN_ , we were blackmailed into giving him all our ration cards to get the packs back from that sicko. Jesus, I could go on forever." I say finally, slumping back onto the bed.

"What I was  _trying_  to say," Logan interjects gently as he pulls me into him, "is that there are others."

"Others..?" I whisper to him.

"Ever hear of Tess?" Her name's always been a popular topic of discussion, especially since she helps everyone out in one way or other. We don't realize it, but we're all connected to each other. It's easier now since we need the help of smugglers to get what we need. Of course, it was a lot easier back when we had the Internet,  _WhatsApp_ , and every other social network related stuff; working phones were good too. "You could work with her if you want." Logan adds, snapping me back to reality and out of my world of reminiscing about the past. "Where can I find her?" I ask him finally.

**A couple of days later..** **–** **Location: The North Tunnel**

The things I did to get here..  _Jesus Christ_. The amount of talking Logan had to do to get me here, bless him.

Knocking on the door of someone I don't even know personally has got to be one of the weirdest experiences in my life. The fact that I'm actually doing it makes it even weirder. The door opens as I take a step back to look at the person living in this apartment. A slim woman, probably a little younger than Dad, opens the door. Her short frizzy brown hair falls loosely over her shoulder blades. She's wearing a gray T-shirt that happens to expose her collarbone, and the look on her face is clearly asking me, " _What the hell are you doing here and what do you want?"_

She looks intimidating, but not enough to faze me. I've seen worse, specifically Dad and Gary. "Can I help you?" she asks me gruffly, both of her straight mahogany brown eyebrows raised in curiosity. Her breath reeks of alcohol; it's a bit early for drinking, isn't it?

"Uhh.." I seem to have lost the ability to speak. My insides have turned to jelly just by looking at her. She's  _terrifying_ , and I've failed to notice that from the start. She gives off this " _stay the hell away from me_ " aura. "You're.. Um.." I continue speaking to her like this.

"I haven't got all day, you know. What're you here for?" she adds impatiently.

The amount of Goosebumps she's giving me is ridiculous. I try to warm my left bicep with my right hand. "I hear you do smuggling?" I start off.

"So?"

"You interested in recruitment?" I ask quietly.

Her response is cruel, almost as if Mark's soul had taken over hers. Maybe she normally does act like this. It's probably from her lack of patience and her brutality. "What've you got to show for it?" she asks after she finishes cackling. "Impress me, and I'll think about it" she adds, a smug smile on her face. I brighten up a bit at that, but I also cower in worry.  _Impress her? With what?_

My face probably registers what my mind is asking. "Come in," she tells me, "your 'interview' awaits inside," she says as she points inside with her left thumb. "I'm Tess, by the way."

There isn't much in here. There's another door which leads somewhere else, but other than that, this place is pretty much empty. A tall lamp, which probably doesn't even work, is placed in the corner of the room near the door. A few shelves have been put up, with a couple of things on it, probably junk. A fireplace rests beneath the shelves, unscathed and untouched. There are two couches in here, one of them – an individual's sofa - facing the window, the other one – for a pair – is plopped dead center in the middle. I only just noticed that there's a man sleeping on the individual sofa. After Tess shuts the door, she walks over to the man's sofa. I see his hair going gray a little, but it's evidently dark like mine.

Sitting on the couples' sofa, I try to get a clear read on him. I can see he's got a thick and messy beard, graying but dark like his hair. The crinkles by his eyes are telling me quite a lot about his age, probably in his 30's. Tess shakes him awake, and he does. He stretches his arms out and I notice a nice looking watch with leather straps on his left wrist. Funny, that watch looks just like the one that Sarah and I got for Dad on his birthday, 6 years ago. I notice the scars he has on his arms. "We've got a guest." I hear Tess telling him.

He gets up and turns towards my direction. My blood runs cold when I see who it is. I've lost the ability to speak all over again. My arms and legs are shaking like crazy, in fear of what he might do to me. "Melanie?" Dad calls out to me, the shock evident in both his voice and on his face. I can't breathe. My chest feels heavy. I can hear his footsteps as he walks over to me. I'm seeing different colors all of a sudden. "Wait. You know her, Joel?" Tess asks, just as surprised as the both of us.

Everything's gotten blurry; I can't really pick up what I'm seeing or what I'm hearing. Surprisingly, I do manage to hear this, "She's my kid." My eyes lull to the back of my head as I collapse. I've passed out.


	12. Blood Loss

Everything sounds like echoes in here. As if I'm in a never ending cave waiting to collapse. I think I'm hearing things. "You think she'll ever get up?"

"Who knows? She might have gotten a concussion. She did fall pretty hard." A brief silence follows. "Are you still in shock?" I think it's Tess' voice.

"Obviously. I wasn't even expecting to see her again, not after what she did to me." It's Dad. He told her. Oh my God, he told her.

"Well, maybe that's why she passed out. Paranoia, panic, and shock, too maybe. It is possible, you know. How're your ribs?"

"They're better now," Dad says to her gruffly. "Besides, it's not like I was gonna kill her. I am still pissed that she actually up and left with Tommy to the Fireflies." Is that sadness in the tone of his voice..?

I slowly open my eyes, everything's blurry. It takes a minute or two for me to recover before I can actually see anything anymore. Tess' fuzzy figure becomes solid again as I regain consciousness. "Good. You're awake, Sleeping Beauty. How many fingers am I holding up? What year is it? And what're you lying on?" Tess asks me as she holds her left hand up, right in front of my face.

"You're holding up three fingers and the year is 2019. Plus, I'm lying down on a torn down and super smelly couch." I reply groggily but matter-of-factly. I'm still feeling a little dizzy, I mean, who wouldn't after the fall I just had? I must've landed head first to end up getting conked out that quickly and for that long. "How long was I out for?" I ask them, as I rub the sore spot at the back of my head with my right hand.

"An hour or two. We haven't exactly been keeping count." Dad steps forward to examine me; I guess he wants to see if I've gotten any other injuries. I freeze at that. I left him to die with his broken ribs, and now he's looking out for me. I'm surprised he managed to even get here in the first place, really. How  _did_  he get here, anyways? Dad plops himself down on the couch beside my legs and sits with both of his arms crossed. As if he read the thoughts flying by in my head, Dad explains with a smug look on his face, "There's this new thing I've heard of recently. It's called, 'Lack of Discretion.' Now, the Queen Firefly just insisted on broadcasting it across the USA now, didn't she? 'Look for the light and escape the darkness' and other phrases like that. Figured I could find you and Tommy with that. Speaking of which, where is he?"

I sit up straight on the couch and cross my legs, trying to feel less awkward. "Umm.." I start as I rub my left bicep to get rid of the Goosebumps I have from the cold air in the room. It's probably just the tension. Damn it, I can't think of anything! How am I supposed to tell him that Uncle Tommy left for Jackson a few weeks after Logan and I got married? Logan.  _Oh no._. He doesn't know. My eyes widen in panic.  _They_  don't know. Logan's aware of Dad, but Dad isn't aware of Logan. Logan knows we're married, Dad doesn't. Dad knows that he's here, and Logan doesn't. God! Why does all this have to happen at the same time, and to  _me_  of all people?! God dammit!

I can feel the cold droplet of sweat on my head rolling down my left cheek. Hopefully, Dad doesn't notice it. The eerie silence in the room is ridiculous, I'm pretty sure you could hear a pin drop at this point. "Uncle Tommy's.." My voice falters and I leave it at that.

"Is he dead..?" Dad asks me quietly after a long period of silence. Oh my God. Is he..  _mourning_  for Uncle Tommy..? "What?! Dear God, no! Jesus, Dad!" I say to him in utter disbelief. "How the hell could you suggest something like that?!" Dad scratches his bushy beard stressfully, the raking sounds not that evident because of how thick it is. "No, he's not dead. He's gone to Jackson." I explain as quickly as I can. I hold my breath and wait for his reaction.

Dad breathes a sigh of relief as I continue to tell him why he left. "He got bored, didn't he?" Dad interjects. "Yeah, pretty much." I tell him, nodding my head. Dad's taking this surprisingly well. Is he staying calm for my sake, or is he just hiding his grief..? I can't tell anymore. It's been 3 years. The guilt of leaving him behind in that old cabin is still weighing me down from telling him anything else. I ball up my fists on my lap as I chew on my lip. Another long silence follows.

Tess walks over towards us, both arms crossed as she stands beside the couch. "So.. Are you still up for that job offer?" Tess asks breaking the silence. We both look up at her for more clarification. "Since you've got an idea of who you're gonna be working with now, I'll give you some time to think about it, okay?" I look up at Tess gratefully, "Thank you."

I hop off the couch and walk towards the door. "You know where to go from here, right?" Dad asks in concern.

I moisten my lips and reply shortly after, "I got it."

**An hour later..**

"I'm home.. I didn't see you at the ration line just now, so I figured I'd just go home first." I call out as I push the door of my apartment open after unlocking it. Silence. No replies. I furrow my brow in confusion. "That's weird. Logan should be home by now, maybe he's asleep." I say aloud to myself as I walk towards our room.

**LOGAN'S POV**

**2-3 hours ago..**

"This is so stupid. I can't believe they sent us for outside work duty!" Mark shouts in anger indignantly, kicking the plants we come across.

"Someone's gotta do it. Besides, it's nice to take a break from being 'the bad guy'." I reply to him calmly as I prop myself onto a nearby rock.

"You and that calm attitude of yours! You really do piss me off you know that, pretty boy?!" Mark hisses at me in reply. I pull my cap off and push back my mahogany brown hair in frustration. I have to be careful; otherwise I'll end up bald prematurely because of constant handling. My hair looks weird pushed back anyways, so why do I even bother?

"What the hell did I do to piss you off this much?" I ask Mark in a relaxed but confused manner.

"Everything about you!" Mark snaps at me in an even angrier intonation than before. "Fine, is this  _that_ time of the month? Go change your pad, man. Jesus." I mutter quietly as Mark continues kicking anything and everything that his eyes have fallen upon.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, smiling at the sky. September weather. Clear and crisp. Fresh  _and_  clean air, truly the best remedy for the headaches and migraines we get from the God-awful smell of the city, it makes you feel alive the moment you get a whiff of it, not the way weed does, but I'm pretty sure you know what I mean. You feel like you're walking and living in a rotting corpse if you stay in the city for too long, it's probably because of the smell of the dead. Blame FEDRA since they didn't even bother to find proper places to dispose the bodies. It's because of them it reeks wherever we go. Plus there's the smell of rotted wood and other old things in the city. A proper clean up would actually be quite pleasant if the government weren't so corrupt.

Man, I wish I could just sit out here forever, but this would be a million times better if Mel was here too. Ah, Mel. A flawless beauty in my eyes and everyone else's too, no doubt; but she worries too much. She's got the image of a fighter, but the moment anybody brings up the subject of her family, she'll snap. She'll break down and take her time to pick herself back up. She's that touchy and sensitive about her family, but hey, now that  _I'm_  her family too, does that mean she feels the same way towards me..? I'm taking care of her now, so I don't see how there's much to worry about now.

Mark eventually collapses onto the grass just a foot or two away from where I'm sitting, his breathing ridiculously heavy with his left forearm covering his face while his right arm is spread out, limp on the ground but clenched into a fist. Is he..  _crying_? "If I die, it'll all be their fault." Mark moans hopelessly outright. "Anna needs me. My  _kid_  needs me." His sobs are making me ridiculously uncomfortable, it's weird hearing a guy crying since it normally comes from a girl, not trying to be sexist or anything, just an observation. They've broken Mark, Anna's his Achilles Heel; how I never realized this till now I don't even know. The concept of Mark's breaking down for his caring for Anna almost seems alien to me, he's always been a jerk towards everyone, especially Mel, but by the shininess of his face and the 'ugly cry face' he's making, something tells me it'll be a while till he gets back to his bullying days. We stay silent for a while.

 

 

**Half an hour later..**

"You, um, recovered now, Mark?" I ask him with a hint of concern in my voice as I offer him a hand up. Mark wipes his eyes furiously using the heel of his palm. "I'm fine, pretty boy. Stop worrying about me." Mark grumbles to me as he accepts my hand.

"Again with the _pretty boy_?" I snap at him, giving him a well-earned scoff as well as an eye roll. The smug grin he shoots back at me makes it pretty obvious that he's back to his old, jerky self. "Come on, it's getting late. I think our shift is over. Let's head back." I state matter-of-factly as we start walking.

"Oh, just one thing I want from you, Ross." Mark interjects.

"Oh my God,  _how_  many have I told you not to call me that? It's even worse than  _pretty boy._ " I say, giving myself a hard facepalm. "But, it's your surname. I like calling peeps by their surname." Mark says to me, his voice a little too cheery. I sigh exhaustedly, "Fine. What is it?" I murmur quietly. He claps me on the shoulder and gives me a hearty laugh, "Well.."

The roaring sounds of aggressive growling are heard all of a sudden. The volume of the rapid flow of footsteps increases substantially, but it  _isn't_  us that are running. "Look out! Runners!" I yell at Mark as I shove him towards the direction of the Boston QZ's back gates. I immediately reach for my revolver, Sheriff style and sprint full speed, trying to get the hell away from them.

"How did we even miss them?!" Mark asks me in a panic when I catch up with him. I'm running at full speed, my heart and mind instinctively telling my body to swing my arms and legs as fast as my body can. All that time I spent working out and building muscle before and after the outbreak of the Cordyceps is being put to great use since I'm considered a rather fit soldier in the ranks of the US Government's Armed Forces. The morning runs in Atlanta, picking up breakfast for Mel every morning, making her flustered just by being me; if I make it out of this, I  _have_  to remind her about those days.

When I turn around to check and see if we've lost them, my heart drops into the pit of my stomach. The Runners are starting to catch up with us; I notice that they're wearing the same navy blue uniform as us as well as the same body armor too, except that theirs are tattered and torn into shreds. I'm surprised at how little damage the armor has taken. Only now I realize this: They're the missing soldiers that FEDRA have kept their mouths shut about, and the same ones that have been the talk of the town for the past month around the apartments.

Despite my training and working out, I'm still the same huge and clumsy idiot from before the Cordyceps hit, I just do a better job at hiding it; but not today.  _Nooooo_ , I end up tripping over my own legs and falling flat on my face into the dry mud on the ground, dropping my revolver in the process. I scramble to get up and start to search around frantically for my gun. "No, no, no, no, no, no!" I keep saying repeatedly, the panic rising in my voice. Oh my God, they're getting closer, their strangled roars are gurgling over and I can literally feel my heart going into my mouth now.

I'm gonna die because I tripped over my own legs.  _YAY_.  _What a heroic way to go._ Suddenly, I hear this manic scream coming from behind me, MARK, if you can believe it. "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM, YOU SONS OF-!" He's taking pop-shots at them, and if he's not careful, one of the bullets will end up in  _me_.

I roll away to the side and pick up my gun the moment I see it, dusty and a little slippery because of my sweating like crazy palms, but still easy enough for me to grip and aim with.  _Mark, you IMBECILE_. He may be a total douchebag most of the time, but he still cares about his friends and family. I'm proud to call him my friend. I smile and join him in his shooting fiasco.

 **5 minutes later**..

"Oh God! I'm out of ammo!" Mark says as he checks his ammo clip after his constant trigger pulling with no luck. "Use a shiv!" I yell at him as I use an old fallen brick to hit the Runner that attacked me. "I don't have it! I only have the switchblade I borrowed from Anna!" he yells back at me as he uses the butt of his 9mm to hit his attacker's head.

"Use it then, moron!"

Just as Mark clicks it open in his right hand,  _another_ Runner comes and attacks Mark, the switchblade still in hand. Mark jumps backward, both arms flailing around. First of all, that is an  _idiotically_  dangerous and risky thing to do, and second, nobody ever realizes the risks until something actually happens. In my case, the switchblade's sharpest point comes towards my face. I back up as best I can, but the damage has already been done. The switchblade is lifted off because of Mark raising his hand up high; in the process, my left eyebrow is left with a deep gash starting from just above my eyelid stretching towards where my hair starts. I didn't expect it to be  _that_ sharp. The scream of pain and agony I let out is loud enough for the civilians in the Quarantine Zone to hear.

People always say that when they're either killing someone or in excruciating pain they start seeing red. I'm seeing only red right now because of the blood from the gash pouring right into my left eye. It stings, it burns like hell. It's as if someone volunteered to pour acid into my left eye and the 'acid' is burning away at the insides of my eye socket. I drop to the ground on my knees, my left hand applying pressure to the gash and my right hand firmly gripping my left forearm to stop it from shaking.

I close my eyes and wince because of the pain on the left side of my face. The gash is literally a millimeter or two away from my left eye. I was that close to being blinded by Mark, and why? Because he kept flailing his goddamn knife around.

I feel so sleepy now. I feel like I could sleep for the rest of my life. The pain in my gash is finally subsiding now, but I think I'm gonna collapse, I feel like, no, I want to fall to the floor. I want to let my arms go limp. I want to relax. Problem is, 'I want' doesn't get.

In the end, I do get what I want, except the landing isn't as soft as I wanted it to be. Oh well.


	13. Stitches and a Baby

**MARK'S POV**

**10 minutes later..**

People have always been dragging me down and telling me that I'm a lost cause. A screw-up. Now I know exactly what they mean by that.

Fighting off the remaining Runners was already hard enough, but having to do all on my own after Logan passed out?  _Jesus_. That was even  _worse_. But then again, I only have myself to blame. If I hadn't been waving Anna's damned switchblade around, Logan wouldn't have gotten that gash of his in the first place.

Carrying his limp body is  _exhausting_ , especially because of his muscular body. How  _does_  he carry himself around, anyways?

I could've sworn that Boston's back gates are closer than this. It's taking forever, but I guess when you're in pain, everything does. I'm coated with blood, and it's not even mine. The left side of my neck is ridiculously itchy, and it burns like hell. How am I supposed to explain this to Anna? How's she gonna cope without me? Even worse, how am I supposed to explain Logan eye to Melanie? Oh my God, she'll _kill_ me..

I continue to trudge along the direction of the back gates as I hold on to Logan's waist on my right arm and grip Logan's left arm over my shoulder. The weight is dragging me down, but I have to get back, I have to! I continue to grumble and gripe as I approach the doors of the gates **.**

**LOGAN'S POV**

**Much later..**

I feel heavy. I can't move any of my limbs. My breathing is feeling really labored, I blame blood loss. Or should I blame Mark? What am I saying? It doesn't make any sense. Why am I blaming Mark again? Oh right, the gash on my head. Stupid me.

"I'm telling you, man." It's Mark. His voice both raised and  _very_  agitated. "You've  _got_  to let us in. Do you see the gash on his head getting any better with us standing here? We have to do something, man. Let us in!" I can see clearly enough to notice the guards on duty exchange a look as well as whom they are. Nick and Jeffrey, junior members, they only just joined 2 months ago.

They're only a little younger than us. That's how most of us communicate with each other; glancing one way or the other, eyebrow raises, little nods; everything to do with discretion and being covert. Unfortunately for them, Mark and I have been doing this for way longer, so we know  _exactly_  what they're signaling to each other:  _WHAT THE HELL  ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO?!_

I can see them literally shaking in panic, but why? I get that Mark can be quite the aggressor, I get that, but why the fear? They're freaking quaking in their combat boots. Nick, the one wearing a regular soldier cap, has his arm shaking ridiculously as he holds his communicator, like we're in a cartoon or something. "Ye-Yeah! We'll l-let you in. Just-" he stops midsentence and says, more like in a hiss, into the communicator, "We need 2 scanners and reinforcements over here  _stat._ I've got a feeling both of them are infected." I don't hear it very clearly, but I do, "Shoot 'em if you have to."

Clearly, this has an effect on the two rookies because they've suddenly stopped shaking, as if they've turned into robots after being issued a command. They both reach for their guns and point them at us in an orderly fashion.

I make this sound, a cross between a whimper and a moan, as Mark stands taller to make it easier for him to anchor my support. I guess my bulk always did have both its advantages and disadvantages. "Wait." Mark says exhaustedly. I turn to look at him and immediately regret it as I wince in pain from my head-turn. Mark was smart enough to actually bandage my head tightly enough to stop the bleeding, and I think the wound has managed to partially close up in the time that I'd been passed out, except for the fact that my head still aches every time I move it, especially since my skull is right underneath the gash. If Mark had been a total dummy and left me to bleed to death, I wouldn't be here right now. He must've cleaned and disinfected it too because it hurts a lot less than it did before. Perks of having an ex-Firefly nurse for your girlfriend, I guess.

"It's me you want. Not him." I furrow my brow in confusion as I continue to stare at him.

"What're you talking about?" I ask him slowly and carefully. Mark gives me a tired smile, turns to face the rookies and replies, "His head's bandaged up because of a gash; he didn't get bitten."

The two of them lower their guns and exchange glances briefly. I'm just as confused as they are. What the hell does he mean by that..? Mark slowly tugs open the left side of his unbuttoned uniform with his left hand, revealing an ugly looking bite mark on his neck. The flesh, raw and red, is disgusting to look at; frankly, I'm surprised by how well he hid  _that_  underneath his shirt. He brought me here while he kept quiet about it and bore the pain of it all by himself.

I clench my jaw and give him an accusing look. "Why..?" I start with a crackly sounding voice.

The tired smirk he gives me is obviously telling me to shut up and listen. "Come on, Ross. Granted, I don't owe you anything, but I couldn't just leave you to die over there."

"That's not it." I interrupt. "What else is there?"

The sigh of exasperation he gives me is long and shallow. "I owe Melanie. I owe Anna." Mark answers flatly. "I owe everyone. I was a dick to all of you when we were with the Fireflies, even to my old man, Gary. But then, I got to know Anna during my constipation episode. She changed me. I'd do anything for her, man. You know that. Then, I met you. You took my insults so calmly, and you still do in fact. Color me impressed, really. A couple of days later, I met Melanie 'the Shrimp' Miller. She didn't take too kindly what I'd been saying to her. And, I don't know. This voice in my head has been telling me to stop after all this time, but I can't, you know? I couldn't. It's just in my rebellious nature. I refuse to take orders and.." Mark stops talking all together to let out a long huff of air. Talking must be exhausting when you're infected.

"So the point is.. I'm trying to make it up to her." Huh. I raise an eyebrow at him since raising both of them will end up reopening the gash all over again. "After 3 years of the same nonsense again and again and again.. I figured I might as well put an end to it. I want us to be square, so if I bring you back to her, in one piece and still alive, she'll hopefully forgive me for everything I've done to her, you know?"

I manage to stand on my own and I push Mark's arm away from me. Biggest idiot known to man, but also one of the bravest. I want to remember every single detail about him, but I can't. These rookies are going to have to execute him. Dirty blonde goatee and hair, a celebrity's smile, an attitude of a total jerk, but a heart of gold in the end.

"So what now?" I ask Mark after a briefly sad silence.

"You tell Anna exactly what happened. You leave nothing out. You make sure to tell Melanie that I'm sorry for everything. Oh, and one more thing." Mark uses his left hand to smack me across the face lightly. "Make sure that Anna picks a decent name for our kid. I have a feeling it's a boy, and if it is, give him a name like Dean or Jake. But, if it's a girl, tell Anna this: don't give her the name of a goody two-shoes. Besides, like mother like daughter." Mark chuckles to me.

Jeffrey reaches for Mark's arms and makes him put them behind his head. "Tell her I love her, okay?" I begin pawing at my bullet proof vest in discomfort. This is it. He's expecting me to remember all this. His last words. Entrusted to me. "Anything else?" I ask quietly.

I notice a solitary tear sliding down his cheek as he gets down on the ground. One last killer smile before it's all over. He tosses me the switchblade – now shut – towards my direction, I manage to catch it. "Thank you."

Goodbye.

**Much later..**

I don't stay to watch them shoot Mark in the head. In fact, I go straight through the gates and give each of the rookies a pummel to the head and a warning to them, just to make sure they don't snitch on me; and if they do.. Oh, they know  _exactly_  what's coming for 'em.

Going through the back's a lot quieter than going in from the main entrance. Besides, why would I want to get unwanted attention from the civilians?

Banging on Anna and Mark's apartment door was one of the last things I had in mind. Especially since I know that Mark's dead and that Anna's the only one inside, or so I thought. What am I supposed to say to her? I don't wanna sound like a heartless government drone speaking in monotone saying stuff like, "Marcus was an excellent soldier. He will be missed."

"Come in!" someone yells to me from inside. I turn the door knob, take a deep breath, and push the door open.

**PRESENT TIME - AWKWARD SILENCE**

Her voice comes out almost like a whisper; audible yet silent. "Logan..?!" So is the tackle-like hug she envelopes me in. The thudding of her footsteps on the floor is frighteningly loud. The blush that appears on my face could have melted paint. Mel pushes me away a little and starts rambling as she looks up at me, "Where the hell were you?! I've been worrying about you this whole time! What if something happened to you and I didn't know about it?!" The tears gliding down her cheeks are fresh and still falling. It really does make me happy seeing how much Mel cares for me. I'm happy to say that I don't have any regrets. I give her an exhausted smile; it's all I can do to not bring her to me and kiss her, but I don't need to. Mel does it by herself; pulling my face down, bringing my lips to hers.

**MEL'S POV**

"I'm glad you're safe." I say to Logan, cupping his face with both of my hands. His forehead is partially bandaged, but mostly bloody and sweaty. The blood on his bandage is fresh because of its bright red hue instead of a muddy brown color.

I let my right index finger drift along the bandage gently, following the path of it along his forehead. When I pull back my finger and examine it, I notice that there is leftover blood glued onto my finger. The blood is seeping right into the bandage. "What happened to you?" I ask him in a whisper. Logan buries his head into my collarbone as I pull him into me for a long and silent hug on Anna's couch.

"I just want to get it treated. It hurts. It hurts so much." Logan whimpers to me. My hand strokes his soft mahogany brown hair; I kiss the top of his head for reassurance. "What even happened to you?" I ask again.

Logan pulls away and sits cross legged, his gray eyes refusing to meet my dark brown eyes.

He takes out a bulky looking pen sized object out from his pocket. Steel base and wooden frame. Logan clicks one of the steel knobs on the frame, and out pops a small but sharp blade. "This is Anna's, but Mark borrowed it from her." Logan explains to me as he stares at the switchblade. "We were jumped by Runners. We fought 'em, Mark ran out of ammo and had to use this. He starts waving it around like it's some kind of Olympic hammer and he ended up nicking me here," he says, as he points at where the wound is.

"Doesn't look like he nicked you. Looks more like a failed attempt at a stab." I reply flatly.

The dry laugh he gives me is absurd. "There's no point in disrespecting the dead." An awkward silence follows. Mark.. is dead..?! Logan changes the topic as he notices my discomfort. "It's still bleeding, and it's already been a few hours since then."

"Anna should be able to stitch it up for you in no time." I tell him matter-of-factly.

Logan keeps quiet for a few seconds, looks around the room briefly and then turns to me, "Where the hell is she anyways?"

I reply almost immediately, "She left almost as soon as you came. She was worrying about both of you and what possible injuries you guys could've gotten in the time that you were gone. She left to get fresh medical supplies from-" I notice Logan leaning towards me. Funny, I don't remember his face being this close to mine. I close my eyes and wait for his lips to approach mine.

We're cut off by the sound of the front door of the apartment opening. "Hey there, lovebirds. How's it going?" Marlene..? What's  _she_  doing here? I only just notice the cardboard box she's carrying when Anna hobbles inside- one hand on her belly and the other leaning against the door - along with the label on it scrawled in black marker; it's the medical supplies.

**After unloading..**

"So tell me. Exactly, how did this happen?" Anna asks Logan as she examines the wound on his head after she unwrapped the bandage on his head. I can see Logan looking at something in the apartment from the corner of his eye; spending as much time as I did with him for the past 3-4 years has been pretty beneficial for me, and in this case, I know Logan's trying to come up with either a white lie or a way to go right around the truth. A long pause follows his eye twitching.

Anna lets out a tired breath and continues anyways, "Fine then. Don't tell me." Anna uses a rag and dips it in hydrogen peroxide, "Oh, and FYI, this is gonna hurt like hell. Just hold still." Logan flinches only a little bit as the dipped part of the rag touches his gash. "Wow. No screams? Even better. Excellent, in fact." Anna says to us gleefully with a smile. That's because he's squeezing my left hand the way an angry man would with a stress ball. I'm surprised I can still feel anything in it in the first place, especially with it turning a dark red color.

Anna's behavior is concerning me. Usually she'll act all depressed and cranky, upset about the world and how it turned out; seeing her behaving in a.. ' _quirky'_  manner is quite alarming, especially since it's coming from her. She's probably trying to hide the grief of Mark being missing. She probably knows that he's dead, though.

"Did Mark clean your gash up before he.." her voice fades to a whisper. My theory's been proven correct. Logan gives a small and polite nod to her in reply. "Atta boy." I notice her lips twitching upward in pride.

**Several minutes later..**

"So, have you ever had stitches done for you before?" I ask Logan, trying to get his mind off of Mark and his death.

"Nope." He replies dully.

"Oh."

Anna returns with a sterile sewing needle and thread. "I'm back and here it is!" Anna announces to us with pride. Anna holds it up like it's the last sterile sewing needle and thread there is left in the USA, there are probably many others that we just happened to not have found just yet, but you know.. The point of the needle twinkles in the light of this dim apartment. I jump forward almost as soon as I see Logan plummeting towards the floor, eyes shut, mouth half open. I catch him just in time before his head would make an impact on the floor, making the gash gush out more blood like milk from a carton, killing him because of blood loss. New fun fact about Logan: He's terrified of needles and syringes.

**A while later..**

It's a strange sight, seeing a needle being popped into Logan's skin, then being pulled out, then pushed back in repeatedly. The amount of blood that was there.. I can't even begin to describe it.

What made it even worse for me was that it was just above Logan's eye  _and_  on his face. Bright side? Logan was unconscious through it all, so he mustn't have felt anything.

**Sometime later..**

"Someone get me a Scotch. Today please." Anna moans to me as she tries a failed attempt at a playful smack to my face with one of her blood coated gloves. She lets out a big puff of air after plopping herself onto the couch. Her mini nurse ponytail comes loose and her ginger strands start dangling from the back of her head. Her so-called bangs weretied back before, but after Logan's stitching, it's started to poke her eyes from above. We've left Logan to lie down in Anna's room, not exactly sure why, but..

I sigh in frustration and give her a look after handing her a towel. The amount of eye twitching I gave her is ridiculous. Scolding hasn't always been my forte, but in Anna's case, "Pregnant women aren't supposed to be drinking in the first place. SHTUPIIIIIID."

Anna simply cackles and brushes it off like it was nothing. "It's been months since I last had a drink. You might as well give me that Scotch now since I'm due any minute now-". Anna wrinkles her nose and looks at me, an unpleasant look on her face. "Ah, man. I think I just wet myself."

"You  _think_  you wet yourself?" Marlene asks, dumbfounded as she starts pouring herself a Scotch.

"You should know! You should've felt that, though!" I exclaim to her pointing at her now wet trousers.

Piss tends to have this pungent smell in the early stages of pregnancy; thing is, it's been 9 months already. We didn't smell  _anything_. At  _all_. Anna looks down out her belly then back up at us. " _No_.." I say, chuckling nervously. Marlene just stares at Anna's blank expression for a few seconds, just before adding more Scotch to her glass.

"I think my water just broke."

"Y-you are kidding, right?" Marlene asks, breaking the silence for me.

I stifle a dry laugh and simply scoff in response. "If that be the case, you've got a very dry sense of humor." I say flatly.

Anna glares at me in response and stands right up, getting ready to sass me. Instead of that, she doubles over and sits right back down on the couch. Marlene runs right over to Anna to try and help her out. "Oh my God, Mel, do you seriously think I'll be joking around about something like this?" Anna asks me bitterly.

I raise my palms in surrender, snorting, and respond, "I know it's something Mark would say."

"Melanie!" Marlene snaps at me. The shock is evident both on her face and in her tone of voice. "What is going  _on_  with you today!?"

"That's the same question we've all got on our minds right now, Marlene." My smartass attitude is starting to kick in again, and for some reason, it always happens when I'm near a couch.

"Both of you.. Can you  _please_  just shut  _up_?" Anna chides weakly.

I whisk right away and walk towards her room. "I'm gonna go check on Logan.." I mutter guiltily. Neither of them stops me from leaving. I walk pretty quickly but I do manage to hear the last thing Marlene says, "Selfish brat." It's not like I disagree with what she's saying.

I simply brush it off as soon as I arrive at the doorway. Seeing him sleep this peacefully is a surprise to me. Be honest with you, it's my fault for talking to him every night when we're supposed to be sleeping. I swiftly but quietly glide along the floor and sit on his bedside when I get there. I smile when I look at his face. Anna applied of those cotton squares applied on with tape, so it looks hidden underneath his bangs. We'll have to change it soon if it gets too wet or bloody.

He's breathing perfectly normally, almost as if he didn't just get any stitches on his head at all. He looks adorable with his bangs covering his eyes when he's asleep.

Now, if you ask me, scars tend to make the features on a person's face more beautiful than they already are; they become their little imperfections.

I take his limp but still warm hand in mine and squeeze it. I start scanning his body for any other injuries as I squeeze his hand. I don't see how taking his undershirt off helps, I mean, I get taking off his grimy uniform for hygiene, but his undershirt too? Oh well; doctor's orders. I'm surprised by the fact that he wakes up and turns to look at me.

"Hey." His smile still melts my heart every time I look at it. "What's going on? You look tense." Logan says to me in concern.

I look away in shame and keep quiet. "How are you holding up?" I ask him, evading the subject of Anna's water breaking.

The look I get from Logan in response.. "What's going on?" Logan's tone serious and alert.

"Anna's water just broke." I blurt out.

Logan sits up immediately, wincing as soon as his he lifts his head up straight. "What!? Why didn't you tell me any sooner?! Mel, where is she?! We have to help her, this is serious!" I purse my lips in response to his outburst.

"Mel." Logan says to me again, gently this time, enunciating his words. "Where is she?"

"She's at the couch, Marlene's with her." I respond blankly. "None of us exactly know how to handle it."

Logan raises his good eyebrow at me. "Melanie. I do." I stare at him, furrowing my brow in thought. Logan snorts and continues, "I've lived in a house with 3 sisters, all of them giving birth in our bathtub. Do you really think I can't handle home births after the same repeated routine?" He's a farm boy..? What kindof stuff do we talk about for me to not even know he  _had_  3 sisters?

"It's not that.." I start, my voice fading into the humid air. I really don't like how Anna and Mark maintain their blinds in their room by the window. Barely any light gets in here so it feels dank and dull in here. "Then, what?" Logan asks me, almost as soon as I reply.

"You're recovering. It's as simple as that. I mean, look at you! You just got stitches on your eyebrow!" I argue. A sarcastic laugh is what I get in response to my valid points. I'm just about to continue when we hear Anna swearing the way someone would drink cold water on a hot day and that's enough for me to shut my mouth.

Logan gives me a smug look and simply replies, "You were saying?" I glare at him as soon as the words exit his mouth. "It's only affecting my head. It's not doing anything to my arms or legs, so I can walk just fine." He just throws his legs off of the bed and starts walking towards the door.

"You could at least put a shirt on first." I call out to him.

Logan turns and smirks at me, "I thought you like seeing me like this."

I roll my eyes and give him weak smile. "I don't want you flashing yourself at them." I explain, immediately wishing I hadn't said anything. My face becomes hot with embarrassment and I start stammering an explanation to Logan. "I- I didn't mean it that way!" I say, flustered with him and at myself.

Logan roars with laughter and in two strides gets to where I am, enveloping me in a bear hug, his chin resting on the top of my head. "Tell me where my top is, and I'll put it on." Logan whispers to me.

**A few moments later..**

Her screams of pain fill the apartment as soon as we manage to find the cleanest blanket that we can for her. "OH MY GOD! THIS HURTS SO FRIGGIN MUCH!" Anna wails at us in agony. "Anna, this is  _childbirth_. It's  _supposed_  to hurt." Logan says to her calmly.

Anna reaches forward and tries to slap Logan, hard across the face, but her hand just flies by as Logan dodges it like it was nothing. "Douchebag, it's not like  _you're_  the one giving birth." Anna snaps at him.

"Think of something you like to get your mind off of the pain, like umm.." I suggest to her while keeping a grip of her right arm. Be honest with you, I'm struggling to come up with anything nice myself.

Anna squints her eyes, struggling to comprehend. Is it that hard to just think of the first nice thing from the top of her head? Oh wait. Marlene snaps her fingers with her free hand, since she's got ahold of Anna's left arm, and suggests, "Helping your patients out. Being nurse." Anna nods her head rapidly in agreement.

"Okay, Anna. I'm gonna need you to push, otherwise, this kid isn't popping out any time soon. Remain calm, the calmer you are, the faster this kid will come out." Logan explains to her in a calm but monotonic voice. Why didn't Logan sign up to be nurse with Anna when we were with the Fireflies? He fits the criteria  _perfectly_.

If I don't end up deaf after today from Anna's screaming, I'm going to pray to God even more than I already am.

The amount of sweat on all of us is ridiculous, but there's even more sweat on Anna. She's gone red in the face and I see little veins popping out at the side of her head. She's been pushing. And pushing. And pushing.

"Anna. Breathe in and out. Calmly push."

**10 minutes later..**

Anna gave birth to a beautiful baby girl on this day in the year of 2019. Logan did a fantastic job of handling her. Marlene's been labelled the kid's godmother.

I watch Marlene and Anna from her kitchen counter top, Anna holding the baby in her arms, wrapped in a blanket with Marlene staring in wonder at the child's emerald green eyes. I continue with my tape cutting using Anna's scissors from a spare med kit we found lying around. I walk over to Logan, who's sitting on the counter top, with a strand on each of my fingers. As I stick the tape strands on Logan's left eyebrow, I ask him in a whisper, "Did Mark say anything to you regarding a name?"

Logan licks his bottom lip and starts chewing on it for a second. "He gave me a couple of name suggestions for a boy, but he just asked me to tell Anna to not give her a sissy name."

"Define 'sissy name' for me."

"Like, Janice. Or.. Mary. Elizabeth. No fancy names. You know what, I mean."

I know exactly what he means by that. "Elizabeth sounds nice, though.." I mutter to myself.

"It's too posh." Marlene calls out. Anna holds up her left hand, then pointing at me, she asks, "You like the name. So do I. But Marlene's right. How about we shorten it?"

I search the back of my mind for anything I can think of. Possible nicknames for Elizabeth. I rest my arms on the cool marble of the counter top. "Umm.. Beth or Lizzie? Ellie..?" I suggest, my voice fading into the echo of the room. I take a sudden interest in my blue Vans and begin counting the number of shoe-string slots there are on my shoes.

"Ellie."

Logan turns to look at Anna as I lift my head up. "What?" I ask.

"We'll call her Ellie." Anna says to me with a smile.


	14. Goodbyes and Foster Care

I always thought that being able to carry a newborn baby proves that you're good with kids; now, I what to think, I don't even know whether I'm right anymore these days. Anna's claims of hating kids melted away the moment she set her eyes on Ellie. Anna stared in wonder at how beautiful this child was as Logan carried her. She was a Godsend, a gift. I ran to get another clean blanket to wrap her up. Her wailing was a welcoming sound in the silent apartment, especially since the only sounds we've been hearing were Anna's labor pain screams and Logan's calm and reassuring voice, constantly telling her to push and remain calm like he was. Looking back on it now, I guess I was right about my theory, Anna just happened to be in denial of it, I guess.

Anna tears out a page from one of my faded notebooks, and then asks me, "Have you got anything for me to write with?" My hands aren't exactly free at the moment, since I'm cradling Ellie's little body in my arms. "It's in my pack; biggest zipper compartment." I say to her, pointing in the direction of my pack with my nose. It's all the way at the other side of the room.

Anna gives me a look and replies, "I just gave birth. Do you seriously think I'm gonna be walking any time soon?" I make a puffer fish face, and hand Ellie over to her, making my way to the pack.

I throw it on the corner of the couch just before sitting myself down beside her. Pulling out a pencil, I take a good look of how things will be going between Anna and Ellie. Anna, currently a single a mom after Mark's 'tragic' death, and Ellie. A kid who'll be growing up alone with her mom, a fatherless child in the Cordyceps period.

Suddenly, a thought pops into my head. "Anna, what're you doing?" I ask her slowly as I turn my head towards her.

Anna scoffs tiredly, "What does it look like? I'm writing a note, genius."

"Why..?"

"Because I want to." Fair enough reasoning, but..

"Anna. You don't write notes." I tell her outright. "Is this a suicide note, or..?"

"Mel." She takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I'm in pain. That's all, okay? It's just in case.."

I look at her, confused, "In case what?" A tired sigh is what Anna replies to me with. "In case things go downhill, which they will." I chew on my bottom lip for another minute or so. "She's gonna be alone now, ain't she?" My Southern girl attitude's returned, except I'm not as 'cheery' as I was back then.

"I want Marlene to look after her-"

I scoff indignantly. "Marlene hates kids too, you know."

"If you'd let me finish, maybe then you'll know what I'm trying to say."

"Fine."

"I want Marlene to look after her. It's only because I'm a lot closer to her than you, but she hates kids. So what I'm gonna do is, I want both of you to look after Ellie. If you're dead, I want Marlene to look after her. And if she's dead, vice versa." Anna informs me, matter-of-factly.

"What if we're both dead?" The sarcasm in my voice is clearly seeping into the room's stuffy air.

"Mel." This sudden sense of duty is a lot to take in; especially since I'm one half of the duo trusted to take care of Ellie should Anna die. "Logan's not always going to be around to take care of us. You know that. It's up to us ladies to take care of her. You think you can handle that?" Anna asks me, her face stony and her tone serious.

My jaw's starting ache now, especially after my vigorous jaw clenching for the past couple of minutes. Probably the stress of it all. Yeah. That's it. I just need to calm down and relax. Mainly start breathing again. Anxiety is my biggest issue. Just.. People on a more general note, really. They make me feel tight. Claustrophobic. I've only opened up to a few people in my life, the fact that these people are still with me makes me ecstatic. But as time passes, I'm losing someone at a faster pace than the one before. I don't want that to happen anymore. Not after what happened to Sarah.. Now Anna, too?

"You're one of the few people in my life that I actually wanna be with right now." Anna lets out a chuckle after I declare that to her. What can I say? I can be one of the cheesiest and poetic people out there when I feel like it. "Who else am I gonna annoy when you're gone?" I ask, a smug look forming quickly.

Anna bumps my shoulder lightheartedly, a small smile spreading across her face. She's still carrying Ellie in her arms; frankly I'm impressed that she hasn't dropped her yet. "Don't get so depressed, Miller. You've got Logan. Plus, there's my girl Ellie and Marlene. I'm sure you two are gonna become friends the moment you get to know the older version of her."

I stick out my bottom lip and make a pouty face at Anna. "You're talking as if you're already dead; like you're some kind of ghost haunting me to make sure I take care of Ellie." I say to her drily. We both chuckle in silence.

 

"Here," I say to her, finally giving her the pencil by putting it on her lap. I reach over to Anna for Ellie and manage to grasp onto the - conveniently found - towel size blanket wrapped around her. Anna starts writing straight away on the paper, leaving the sound of pencil lead being scratched on paper hanging in the air.

I decide to take this time as an opportunity for me to get to know what we have of Ellie and what she looks like currently. She looks like a hermit currently because she has almost no hair at all, but the top of her head is an orange-ish hue, soft and almost feather like. I only know what her eye color is because I saw it when she was awake; a gorgeous tone of emerald green. She's super pale, but she'll color out eventually, I suppose. For a baby, she's a lot quieter than most, probably just because she's sleeping. I kiss the top of her head as a blessing, she doesn't even flinch.

Now that I think about it, I still haven't forgiven Dad for his ignorance. Why haven't I?  _That's_  the real question. Seeing Ellie's face reminds me that all of this of this is real. All of this is happening right now. It's not a dream. This is real. This is reality.

Ellie was born in the age of Hell. The age of the Apocalypse. She shouldn't have been, but she was. God help her and the rest of this generation. God's form of punishment is this; families separated, the world we once knew was being torn apart right before our eyes, and an infectious disease that will end up killing everyone. It's all here. It's all real. Out of all the people I'm hoping for to survive this mess, I'm rooting for her. I want her to be a survivor of this disaster. In order for me to do that, I'll have to wipe the slate clean. I can't continue on like this, waiting for another apology from Dad when he already has apologized. It's my turn now.

**15 minutes later..**

Seeing Marlene cry is one of the least expected things in life, and it certainly isn't something worth seeing. Her tears sliding down her look like they're morning dew drops from blades of grass in the early mornings, not that we see that kind of stuff anymore these days. The sounds Marlene makes when she cries.. Let's just avoid talking about it and not go into detail on that. Anna makes cooing sounds, hushing me and Logan, insisting that we leave the room to let her handle it; so we do.

We end up going to her room, more so, her old room since she'll be dead in less than 24 hours. According to her, at least.

"Logan?" I start, sounding like a lost child in a shopping mall. Logan raises his non-stitched eyebrow at me, enjoying the silence of the room, excluding the sound of my voice. "What're the leading causes of death for women who just gave birth?" We continue pacing back and forth around the room.

"Is this about Anna?" I nod in agreement.

Logan lets out a long painful sigh before answering, "Well.. Some women die of infections, maybe high blood pressure. Others die of internal bleeding. Hemorrhages in the diaphragm and chest area can lead to that. Umm.. What else?" Logan should've been a nurse with the Fireflies, how the hell does he know this much about maternal death, anyway? "Are you sure you weren't a nurse before all hell broke loose?" I grin at him teasingly.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I know what my own life was like. I wasn't a nurse, but I  _did_  plan on going to medical school. I did all the research and everything just to be prepared, too." I married a 'pre-doctor'.

Things have gotten quiet outside, a little too quiet. "Do you think we should check on 'em?" Logan offers me. I nod in response as I start walking towards the door.

Suddenly, Marlene's screams fill the room, urging us to sprint at full speed out of the room towards Marlene. "Oh God, Marlene! What the hell happened?!" Logan and I alternate in a panic. Marlene clutches onto Anna's limp body, rocking back and forth on the couch, sobbing violently.

I always knew that babies can tell when something's wrong. Ellie's sudden wailing came as no surprise to me, so I walked over her robotically and did what I could to shush her. Physically, I looked capable. Internally, my heart, my mind, my body, my soul knew that I couldn't handle this. I shut down internally, emotionally.

Another loved one in my life, snatched away from me, by the power of God. I'm not going to say anything about that, I'm not going to criticise God for doing His job, but everything happens for a reason. God just happened to choose the moment of Ellie's just being born to do it.

**Several months later..**

**LOGAN'S POV**

What we did was wrong. All of it was wrong. I still can't believe we actually went and did it. We actually sent Ellie off to someone else instead of taking care of her ourselves. Talk about being unreliable and irresponsible. We were left in charge of taking care of Ellie after Anna's death, and what do we do? Throw her in the hands of some other poor man or woman suffering just as much as we are.

I remember the day it happened. I remember how furious Melanie was at Marlene for doing it, for agreeing to sign the consent forms without Melanie's consent since  _they_  were the ones put in charge of taking care of Ellie  _together_. Marlene apparently thought it was a one woman show in which she was both the victim and the star of it all. We were too late by the time we got there.

To be perfectly honest, as much as I love Anna for being the best possible friend anyone could have, me and Mel handling her shouldn't have been something Anna would've left us to do. I'm absolutely shit with kids, but Mel; she's a whole other story.

But yeah, things are different now. A lot quieter, that's for sure. I've decided to let my beard grow out from now on. I guess I'll trim it some from time to time, but I'll let it grow. Every time I look at that God-awful mirror in our apartment, I always somehow end up looking back at my left eyebrow. Stitched moments before Anna gave birth to Ellie. A symmetrical line from the start of my eyelid all the way to my hairline, a closed wound. No new eyebrow hairs will be growing in that area, that's for sure.

According to Mel, Anna wrote her a letter before talking to Marlene alone. I'm honestly unsure about how a letter makes up for Anna's death right after the birth of her own daughter, but I guess seeing words written by the child's dead mother will make up for it somehow.

My real question is about what'll happen by the time she's too old to be taken care of. Military Prep School. If she ends up there.. God help her if she does. I've heard stories about what the kids there are like, how they end up after staying there.. We'll keep an eye on her from time to time then, I guess. We'll just have to wait and see. Only time will tell after all. <End Journal Entry>

**MEL'S POV**

The amount of anger I let out that day is almost as much as the amount I let out when I lashed out at Dad for not apologizing sooner. A selfish and VERY arrogant choice led to that.

I still can't believe that Marlene actually gave Ellie away without my consent! Anna trusted  _both_  of us to do it, who does she think she is? Sure, Anna wasn't as tight with me, but Marlene. Anna would  _never_  have wanted that; and to think that her closest friend would send her off to foster care just like that..

What am I even worrying about? It's not like anyone's going to be adopting her any time soon. Her, like many other unfortunate kids in this hellhole of a world, have lost their parents. Why would anyone want to adopt a kid when they themselves are suffering in a world like this? It's just gonna end up becoming an inconvenience and a hindrance for them, no doubt about that.

This is getting ridiculous. I can't even write anymore. Forget this. I'm done. I'll write some other time. <End Journal Entry>


	15. Apologies and Abandonment

**4 years later**..

I can't do this anymore. I don't even know whether I should leave or if I should stay. What'll happen if I leave? And what'll happen if I stay? Ellie will probably be growing up on her own without us keeping an eye on her; I can't trust Marlene to do it, so who will? I'm not just going to back out of promise to Anna. Promises need to be kept, and I intend to keep mine. Ellie's already a toddler now, I wonder who's taking care of her right now.

I'll have to discuss this later on today with Logan, he might be able to help. After all, it was Logan that came up with this decision. He suggested we leave Boston for good so that we don't have to put up with seeing the deaths of more loved ones before our eyes. But with us doing that, what'll happen if either one of us dies? We'll both end up widowing the other, one way or another. Moving to Jackson would help, I guess, since we both know Uncle Tommy is bound to be there. If he isn't.. Well. It's worth the risk, I suppose.

I continue to stare at the ceiling, with my head back on my nasty smelling pillow, shutting everything out.

Logan's voice tries to pull me out of my void of depression and lost dreams. "Melanie. Come on. Say something. Anything. I can't continue living like this, with you staring off into space and me trying to talk to you. I need to know you're here. I'm here for you." A gentle squeeze of my hand is enough for me to turn my head to face Logan.

"I'm here, but my head's off in space. I've told you already, I can't feel anything anymore. I've shut myself down, Logan. I don't even know what I'm feeling anymore. I can't tell if I'm hungry or thirsty. I can't tell if I'm tired or upset. Nothing makes sense to me anymore."

I see tears welling up in Logan's eyes; he doesn't cry. In all my years, I've never seen a boy cry. Well, in Logan's case, a man. Dad's the only one I've seen crying, and that happened only right after Sarah's death. I'm not _technically_ dead, but I suppose I look dead from the way I'm behaving. I seem a lot like _Dad_ now, really. Thing is, I don't mean to be. My love for Anna is the reason for why my behavior's become like this. My love for my friends and family is definitely a weakness of mine that I've let take over my body and mind too many times in my life. I guess that's why Dad started acting like a lifeless walking corpse after Sarah died.

"We might as well move to Jackson."

I look away from Logan and continue to stare at the ceiling again. "We can't just go without telling Dad."

"Wha..?"

I roll over on my side and place my right hand underneath my ear. "My dad's here. In Boston. I ran into him when I met Tess."

"And you were planning on telling me this when exactly?" I can practically hear his voice slowly rising, its tone annoyed and unpleasant.

I try to formulate a legitimate excuse for my actions, but I come up with a fairly weak one in mind. "You're being a total jerk. We were busy, you know."

I get both a reply and a scoff from him, "You could've told me earlier. It's been 4 years, and you've said nothing."

Talking to Logan is using up so much of my remaining energy, it's not even funny. "AUGH. You're so exhausting. Just leave me alone to die."

"I'm not gonna let you do that. I'll drag you to Jackson if I have to, just to get you to stop talking and thinking like that. Mel. I'm here for you. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Until you convince me."

"Then I'll stand by you and wait." I turn my head towards him, but keep my back in the same direction. Logan cups my face with his left hand, stroking my cheek. "I love you. I'd never leave you unless you begged me to. Unless you give me a proper reason, a legitimate reason, I'll stand by you and stay. I don't care how long it takes. I care about you. I choose you over everyone else. You're the only girl I've really learned to love. "

I immediately turn away, causing Logan's hand to slip away from my face, and refuse to look at him. "Just. Leave. Me. _ALONE_."

"Melanie, please. Just, stop." Logan's voice cracks at that. "That's enough. I know. You've lost your sister. Tommy left you. Anna's dead. I get it. I'll-"

" _NO_. You _don't_ get it. You didn't lose any of your sisters on the night of your dad's birthday. You didn't watch her die of a bullet wound in the gut. You didn't watch your own father suffer from grief after your sister's death. And you most certainly did not hit your dad in the ribs with a baseball bat, and then leave him for dead." After I finish, a long silence is left to hang in the air. Logan squeezes my hand one last time before he leaves the apartment. As soon as I hear the door close behind him, the tears start falling.

 

 

**LOGAN'S POV**

This feeling isn't new. I slide down onto the floor and slump against the apartment door, resting the back of my head against it.

Mel's become an almost hopeless cause. I feel like I can't help her anymore. She won't listen to me, she won't talk. I don't know what to do with her anymore. Marlene's deserted us, Anna's dead. I'm close to giving up on her now, but I won't. Luckily, I took Mel's beanie and pocketknife out of her bag just before leaving the apartment. Looks like I'll have to take this matter into my own hands.

**An hour later..**

**JOEL'S POV**

I hear a repeated knocking on the door. A loud banging from fist to wood, to be precise. "Tess. D'you mind checking the door?"

Tess scoffs at me before saying, "Talk about being lazy." I follow her from right behind. "You ready?"

I nod in reply. On cue, she slams the door open to find a young man in his twenties, a little shorter than I am. The beanie on his head looks exactly like Melanie's beanie. I rush towards him and immediately pick him up, throwing him over my shoulder, and drop him on the floor behind me. "Augh! What the he-?!" is all we hear from him before he gets knocked out unconscious.

We pant in silence just before Tess smirks at me, "Nicely done, Texas." I chuckle as I pick up his limp body. "Where's the rope?" I ask her.

"Usual place." And she calls _me_ the lazy one.

I roll my eyes at her as I drag the kid's limp body across the room to where my couch is. Plopping him on the seat, I make sure he's.. 'comfortable'. His head lulls back against the couch's head rest as soon as I seat him upright. "Jesus _Christ_ , boy. Stay still!" I mutter aloud. "How ya doing, Joel?" Tess calls out to me.

"Oh, I'm fine. But this kid just won't sit still. I mean, look at him!" I say to her, pointing at him with my hand. His head continues to droop forward. The fact that he's wearing her beanie like it doesn't mean anything to him just makes me even more hateful towards him; but what if it isn't even hers? I can feel it in my gut. It has to be hers. It's been months since I saw her last, maybe he killed her in the time that I haven't seen her.

I continue tying him up in the sofa, keeping in mind that he could've killed Melanie. Oh, I'm so gonna enjoy this.

**LOGAN'S POV**

I wake up to find myself tied up on a couch; my legs, my hands, too. I try to pull myself out of the couch, but my limbs remain firmly on it, unable to move. What the hell; was this guy in the Navy at one point?! The back of my neck is killing me, and the last thing I remember before getting knocked out was that I got thrown over an old man's shoulder. Damn, he managed throw me over his shoulder despite my stocky figure? He's already impressed me. I wonder if he's Joel, Mel's dad. I haven't looked at him for long enough to confirm it.

"Hey! Let me out!" A lame attempt at a bargain, despite the fact that I was in the military at one point. I don't get a reply after I yell into the darkness.

"Hey, Tess." I hear a deep voice call out to my left, causing me to me immediately turn and look. "Look who's awake."

A woman, maybe a little younger than the old man, approaches me. Her angular face stands out, but she's got a pretty face as well as a slim figure. Almost as slim as Mel, really. She's the one who slammed the door open before I was knocked out. "Well hello, handsome." She _purrs_ at me as she gets a tight grip of my left shoulder, pulling me forward. She releases after saying, "Have fun with him, Joel." The almost evil smirk she gives him is _terrifying_. But wait, _Joel_?! _He's_ Mel's dad?

"Will do, darlin'." 'Joel' comes over to me in just two strides, pulling a chair with him to sit in front of me. "So, would you like to ask me anything before I start beating the living hell out of you?" Yeah. He's Mel's dad, alright. They're just about as short tempered and blunt as the other. OH. He must've seen me wearing her beanie.

I take a deep breath and give him a relaxed smile. "Yes, actually. Thanks for asking. A few things I've got on my mind that I'd like to clarify. Does that sit alright with you?" I ask him, as calmly as I can. I keep my cool to make sure my voice doesn't end up shaking.

Joel just sits up in the chair, arms crossed, jaw clenching. "Well? Go on. Shoot."

"So, I caught your name was Joel? If it is, is your family name Miller? Have you got a daughter here in Boston at the mome-" I'm cut off as I feel the pain at the top of my head. Joel's pulled my head forward by my hair. "OW, OW, OW!" I yelp at him. His face is just centimeters away from mine. From my observation, I see that he's got wrinkles all over his face from old age. On his forehead, and his cheeks, even the little crinkles by his eyes. I notice a scar at the bridge of his nose, a small and pale but thick white line going right across, how'd he even get it, though?

The way he looks at me in the eyes is.. well, easiest way to put it, _scary_. It's as if he'd been waiting for years to have this 'talk' with me. "Well, _you_ seemed pretty excited to be asking me your load of questions. How about you let _me_ drive for now and I'll ask _you_ the questions."

"Y-Yes, sir." Damn it, I'm stuttering.

"Okay, then." He _finally_ releases my mahogany brown hair after I reply. "First of all, _your_ name. What is it?" He's getting all up in my face now; all I want to do is just cower away in a corner.

"Logan Ross."

"Hmm." He's treating these questions as if I'm in some kind of pop quiz that I'll have to get full marks on. "Second, how did you find this place, ' _Logan'_?"

"You do realize how quickly information passes around here, right? If you ask the right people, you'll know where to look. So I did, and here I am. That was the case for Mel, too, in case you're wondering, old man." Oh noes. Why am I acting like a smartass!? Joel glares at me briefly in total loathing, almost as if he's going to punch my fa-

He does. The impact is raw, full and hard on my left cheek. I've felt plenty of punches in my life, but this one was by far the hardest and most painful.

Joel shakes his right hand several times, trying to get a feel if any blood's still flowing through it. "Alright, now you're really starting to annoy me."

"Joel, take it easy on the kid." Tess tells him as she exits the room after getting bored of watching.

He ignores her and continues railing on me, "Third, how do you know my kid? No, ignore that. How do you know I even _have_ a kid?"

I've been moving my hands around a lot for the past few minutes, looking for a loose knot in the tied rope. I finally find a loose spot and work with Melanie's pocket knife. "Her name's Melanie, Melanie Miller Ross. She's my wife." I wait for the words 'my' and 'wife' to sink into his dictionary.

"WIFE!?" Joel literally jumps from his chair, reaching with both hands to strangle me. Just as his hands manage to wrap around my neck, the rope finally gives way, letting me smack his hands away from me. I give him a hard punch on his jaw to get him away from me as he stumbles over; I also give him a knee to the gut for good measure, causing him to cough out blood. I've no idea why, but for some reason, I take satisfaction at that. Joel lands hard on his back the wooden floor, curling up as soon as he catches his breath.

Tess immediately returns in a flash and out of breath, "JOEL-!" Her voice gets caught in her throat when she realizes that I'd managed to escape.

I roll my shoulders as soon as I untie the rope around my feet. I turn to her, trying to sound like a war veteran, "Did you really think it was going to be that easy?"

This obviously doesn't work since Tess gives Joel a look of disappointment as well as a cruel laugh gurgling from the hollow of her throat.

"Texas, did you _seriously_ let this kid _beat_ you? Damn, he hit you hard, even though it was just a practice round." Her laugh turns into a guffaw, ending up with her tearing up and constantly slapping her thigh. She's obviously drunk. No sober person would laugh that hard or even react in way near that.

I raise an eyebrow at Joel who clutches his gut as he stands up, shrugging at me in response. This must be the norm for him, I suppose.

Joel gives me a simple nod, a nod of acknowledgement. I don't think he expected me to get up, or punch or knee him for that matter. "Last question for you, why'd you come here?"

**Later..**

**MEL'S POV**

Sleep helps relieve the pain. The pain of losing someone you love. The pain of feeling unappreciated and unwanted. It makes you feel horrible, and that's exactly how I feel. Crying helps, but you can only cry for so long. My sleep is only making things worse. I'm starting to see things. Hallucinations, mirages, memories, all jumbled up into one.. 'being', I guess.

I need to breathe.

I've stayed in the same exact position for the past.. Crap. I can't even keep track of how long I've been in this daze. This world of my own, this trance that I've been stuck in. Living in this world for eternity would help, except for the fact that I'm still alive, that I'm still stuck in the real world, this horrible void of reality.

The images I've been seeing were a mix of Sarah and Andy and our times together, Andy's possible future if he was still alive, Sarah's future, too.

My fault. It's all my fault. If I'd used my 9mm and shot her murderer before he shot at us, she would still be alive right now. It's all on me. If I hadn't gone to the Coopers', I wouldn't have Andy's 'ghost' tormenting me in my sleep for killing him.

But wait. I didn't kill him. Technically speaking, I killed him in Runner form. He already technically died before he turned. I mean.. I give up. I'll just wait here for God to take my soul and send me to Hell for everything I've done. It'll only be in a matter of hours..

 

 

**LOGAN'S POV**

I hope we make it time. I hope we can stop Mel from being so depressed and stop her from thinking so negatively.

**JOEL'S POV**

Mel's in a grief induced daze now? Jesus _Christ_. According to 'her man', they got married.. What? 5 years ago? Okay, she chose to marry the man she loves, I get that, but don't they need the bride's father's permission for the man to marry the girl first? Oh well, I guess Tommy was the best available option. Tommy. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. I'd _love_ to see him. But I know I won't be since he left for Jackson a while ago, according to Mel.

When we finally make it to their apartment door, I take a step back and stay there. Logan turns to look at me, scowling. "What're you doing?"

"What if she doesn't want to see me? I mean.. She won't even talk to you, so what makes you think that she'll listen to me?" I ask him, doubt glued to the back of my mind.

"Joel." When I look at him, I try to look as sad I can, to seem like a lost puppy and to gain pity. I assume it works because of the wince on Logan's face. "I don't know. We'll just have to risk it. If we don't, we'll never know."

"Fine."

Logan finally opens up the door to their apartment, leading me into it.

**MEL'S POV**

I hear the apartment door being opened, as well as Logan's voice calling out to me.

I release a tired sigh before muttering, "Go away." I managed to find an old blanket somewhere in one of the room's wardrobes, so I pull it up over my head to block out his presence.

His footsteps continue to approach me, getting louder and closer. "Mel..?" Wait. It's _not.._ Logan? The voice calling out is deep, but gruff and familiar. It's the same voice that I've been listening to for the first 17 years of my life. "It's me, it's Dad." It is. It is him.

I tug the blanket down to take a good look at him. Dad's not alone by the doorway, Logan's leaning against the door frame, both arms crossed over his chest, a serious look in his eyes.

"I'm here now, Mel. I just want to talk."

 

**LOGAN'S POV**

Seeing Mel's face after seeing her dad. Should you say I was relieved? Or upset? I can't tell the difference.

It's as if Joel relit the fire in Mel's cold and almost lifeless heart. Just by looking at her face, you can see the difference in how she carries herself.

Joel timidly walks towards a wasted Mel, the eye bags under her eyes completely obvious, her hair loose and messy from staying in bed for days on end. Frankly, I'm surprised she hasn't gotten any gastric since then.

"Daddy?" Mel calls him, uncertainly, a lost look in her eyes. She sits up on the bed, elbows propped up to help her sit upright. I guess she only calls him that when she's in a negative state. The tears in her eyes pool over and start to trickle down her cheeks, pretty soon she's bawling her eyes out. In between sobs, I hear her apologizing profusely for everything bad she'd done to him.

Joel goes over to her, sitting on the bed, immediately enveloping her in a comforting hug. I hear him reassuring her, "Honey, it's okay. It's okay. It's me. I'm here now, Mel."

I feel helpless just standing here by the doorway; it's almost painful for me to watch, seeing Mel break down the moment the man who raised her shows up. Seeing that she wouldn't even _move_ from the bed when she was with just me.. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I guess I'm feeling.. _jealous_ of Joel. Jealous of how close the two are to each other, jealous of their relationship, jealous of how Mel sees him.. Everything about Joel makes me envious..

Mel doesn't want me around now, does she..? I mean.. She's got Joel now. She doesn't need me. Haley and Tony never cared about me the way Mel does. They were fake friends. Mel was never a friend to me; she was the girl I fell for at first sight. The girl I'd wanted to love from the beginning. But now that she has her dad.. I'm gonna be all alone again, aren't I?

**JOEL'S POV**

It feels so good having Mel in my arms again. I haven't hugged her since before Sarah..

Melanie must have been carrying a lot of her regret, sorrow and misery with her all this time. To think that she'd end up in a grief induced daze like me and then break down right after seeing my face. She's been crushed, both emotionally and physically.

She's so much stronger than this, she really is.

The tears keep falling but the number of words coming out of her are starting to die down, she must've thought that Logan would never understand what she'd been through each time he tried to comfort her. Seeing how she reacted to just _me_ coming into the room was already shocking enough for me..

**Later..**

Mel falls asleep on my lap, her head well rested, and her side profile facing me. She looks like a rag doll that had been tossed out by its owner long ago. I continue stroking the top of her head to comfort her as she sleeps. Eventually, I pick up one of her smelly pillows and place it underneath her head carefully, replacing my lap with that. I push away a stray lock of hair behind her ear and smile a little before whispering, "G'night, baby girl."

I shut the room door and plan to exit the apartment when Logan stops me, abrupt. "Where're you going?"

This question catches me off guard since I'm already well aware of where I'm supposed to go. "I-I'm headed back now." I say to him gruffly. Pointing in the direction of the apartment door, I give him a confused look.

Logan sits up from where he's leaning. He's sitting at the back of the couch, slouched and mopey looking.

"Listen, old man." Logan gets up from where he is, picking up a nearby backpack -presumably his - and puts on the straps. Now it's _my_ turn to be confused. "Melanie doesn't need me anymore." What?

"Boy, how can you say that? You love her, don't you?"

"I do." He states matter-of-factly.

"Why are you telling me this then? She loves you too, doesn't she?"

He shoves his hands in his jeans pockets and stares at the floor. "I don't know.." You hopeless child. "I mean.. I was so sure of it back then.. Now.. I don't even know what to believe or what to think anymore, you know?"

I'm not sure how to respond to what he's saying, more importantly how to comprehend with it. "Listen, kid." I start. "She's having a hard time, I'm sure she feels better now that she's let it all out. How long she's been holding that in, I've no idea. But she's okay now. I'm sure of it. The same thing happened to me with.. It doesn't matter. But once I let it out, I was okay. I'm okay. She's okay. You just need to take care of her, that way-"

Logan comes towards me, eye to eye, face to face. "You're the reason for why she's become like that." His voice, low in volume and dangerous, is that a threat I hear?

"Then, can you explain why you've got that pack over your shoulders?"

"This has nothing to do with her."

"Oh, it's got _everything_ to do with her." I throw back at him. "You're leaving her, ain't you?" My hunch is correct judging by the look of guilt on his face. "You sly coward. And you said you loved her."

"Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?!" His voice is husky and his face is the definition of an approaching thunderstorm. "I don't _want_ to leave her. But I can't stay here any longer with her. I can't help her. I've tried reaching out to her for so long for the past 4 years. I can't do it anymore. But _you_ can. She doesn't need me anymore. I've lost enough people already in my life, I don't want to watch her fading away in front of me."

"So that's it?" My voice seething with anger. "You're just gonna leave her?! You have no _idea_ what loss is, so you've got so right to be leaving her here alone!"

He shoves me in an attempt to get away, but I manage to regain my footsteps. I give him a backhand to the left side of his face, causing a scream of pain to escape from his lips. I grab him and give him a knee to the gut, causing him to cough out spit. I take him by the arms, pinning him down, onto the ground. "Kid, you may be strong physically, but in the end, you're no better than cowardice snakes like Robert."

Logan bangs his head hard on the floor, a hard thud being left. His voice cracks as he starts screaming at me. "It's my choice! And Mel told me how many times to leave her alone, and I'm doing exactly that! So please! Just let me go!"

I let him go and push him away, leaving his left cheek glued to the floor with his sweat. "And Mel? What am I supposed to tell her? That you felt like leaving her? That you've given up on her?"

Logan slowly gets up, cupping the left side of his face. I can't say blame him; I punched him there _and_ gave him a backhand at the same spot. Violence only begets violence, and he was asking for it. "Just.. Tell her I'm doing this for her sake."

I manage to control my temper when he leaves the apartment. Logan leaves the apartment keys by the kitchen counter, not that he'll need them anymore. I work up the nerve to say it to him just before he shuts the door and I do, "You goddamn coward."

Anyone who hurts my daughter doesn't deserve to have her. Next time, if I ever see his 'pretty' face again, I'll kill him.

**MEL'S POV**

I wake up to find my head resting on one of the smelly pillows. "Oh boy.. I think I'm gonna puke." It's as if my words issued a command to my empty stomach, causing a waterfall of acid to gush from my mouth and onto the floor. This continues for another minute or two. Once I finish, I feel light headed and wobbly. "Dad?" I call out, weak.

Dad comes jogging into the room. "Honey, are you okay..? Oh." Dad sees the pool of vomit on the floor, immediately going to his backpack. Dad returns with a bottle of clean water, and hands it to me. "Here, drink slowly, otherwise you'll puke again." I take it from him gratefully and take the water in small sips. Dad joins me on the bed and sits by my legs.

"Where's Logan?" I ask him, burning with curiosity. Dad works his jaw and scoffs out of spite. He says the next two words like he's got a bitter taste in his mouth. "He left." I spit out the remaining water in my mouth, a spray of H2O popping out of my mouth like in a fountain.

" _WHAT_!?"

"I don't know. He only said that he's leaving and doesn't plan on coming back."

I take note of this and purse my lips, hurt. "Did he say why?" I ask blankly.

Dad scratches his head and lets out a long and frustrated sigh. "I tried to stop him, but I couldn't in the end. He just kept on saying stuff like, 'It's for her sake.' What kind of guy did you pick to marry, Mel? That coward doesn't deserve you, just look at what he's putting you through now!"

I twist the bottle cap shut and squeeze the main base of the plastic bottle. It's gonna be hard for me to hate Logan since I still love him, but why would he leave me so suddenly?

Has this got to do with what I said to him earlier today..? Stupid me. I shouldn't have said anything to him in the first place. I can't do anything about it now that he's gone, but what about..

"Dad?" He turns to look at me. "Am I forgiven?" His eyes widen as he scoots closer to me. "Because I really am sorry about every-" Before I can continue, I get squeezed into one of Dad's super tight hugs.

"Don't apologize."

"But-"

"DON'T. STOP."

So I do.

 **A few weeks later**..

We stayed like that for a while. Eventually, I had to go to the bathroom and changed out of my old and worn out clothes. I cleaned up the mess I made on the floor and Dad helped me with getting rid of the smell.

Sure, I got upset over Logan abandoning me, but there are plenty of guys like him out there. I'll find a replacement for him eventually, I guess. It's all up to me. Relationships can be _such_ a drag. I'm sort of relieved that he left me here. But then again, I have Dad here with me.

Speaking of Dad, he's taking me out for clothes 'shopping' today, AKA foraging through some old abandoned department store. We'll go and see if there's anything we like, also an excuse to spend some time together, I guess. Not that I mind or anything.

"You ready?" Dad asks me as he opens the door for me. I'm staying with him and Tess now since the apartment Logan and I used to live in was a military family provided one. Since Logan ditched me, I got kicked out. Bright side, I'm now staying with my much nicer dad rather than my worthless 'husband'. Should I even be calling him that after he left me on my own?

I'm sitting on the kitchen counter, reading the note I found on our old sofa before I moved out. Logan's pathetic excuse of a 'goodbye note', I guess. I might as well keep another piece of him with me for the time being.

I don't even know whether I should keep the old Polaroid picture of him with his arm around me. I guess I'll use it as a bookmark if I ever come across any good books while I'm smuggling with Tess and Dad. I don't know. I'll just have to wait and see. Only time will tell.

"Yeah."

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Okay then, folks! That's it for today! If you like it, please let me know, like/favorite, do as you wish! I'll see you all later, have a good day! :D


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